
Class. 



Book_. 



rLzioS' 



Gopyright K" Co-Lu Z 



COFOtlGHT DEPOSIT 



PRIVATELY PRINTED. 
THIS EDITION IS LIMITED 
TO 52 COPIES OF WHICH 
THIS IS NO 



HINE'S ANNUAL 



igo6 



THE WEST BANK OF THE 
HUDSON RIVER 



ALBANY TO TAPPAN 



Notes on its History and Legends, its 
Ghost Stories and Romances. Gathered 
by a wayfaring man who may now and 
then have erred therein. 



By 
C. G. HINE 



(Jy^ 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

JUN 1 1907 

^ Cowrtght Entry 
/lass CL XXc, No, 
COPY 



70(/ 

A. / 



f\Z1 

Co-toy S 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1907, by C. G. HiNE, 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. 



N. 
V. 



^ 



FIRST WORD. 

Walking from Albany to New York may sound like some- 
thing of an undertaking, but the fact is I started late in May 
and only arrived as far as Nyack by early November. Took 
two bites to my cherry, one in the Spring when the bite only 
went as deep as Catskill, the other in the Fall, when all the 
woods were brown. 

I am not a walker, as those of my friends who really walk 
view the situation, a stroller rather, who, as the gifted William 
puts it, "fleets the time carelessly". These same friends look on 
my little jaunts with a scornful eye, and there is no doubt that 
one man's pleasure may be another man's weariness, for it 
makes them tired to dawdle with me, and it makes me very 
tired to hustle with them. However, I can stop at any time 
to note the color scheme provided by meadowland or mountain, 
and frequently feel called on to do so. Can even stoop so low 
as to gather a wild flower now and then, while my friend, Mr. 
Fastfoot, is disappearing down the road in a cloud of dust. 

Last year the all pervading gloriousness of the Autumn 
coloring was the dissipation of the tramp, but this Fall a series 
of hard, early frosts gave the foliage no opportunity to be gay, 



and, except for the green of an occasional willow or the russet 
of the oak's early Winter garb, the trees were stripped for the 
annual struggle with old Boreas. A November haze veiled the 
mountains much of the time and even the sunsets were sub- 
dued. While there were many bright spots the landscape was 
in general a disappointment, though there was provided ample 
evidence that it was capable of better things. 

The history and legendary interest of the region I found 
wonderful. The more so, possibly, because of my compara- 
tive slight previous acquaintance therewith. The average 
citizen (that's me) knows that Kingston was burned during 
the Revolution and that there is a Washington headquarters 
in Newburgh. He knows of West Point and Stony Point, of 
Fort Montgomery, and has from his school days recollection 
of a chain stretched across the Hudson during the Revolution, 
but beyond that most is dim. Of Dominie Schuneman he 
probably never heard. The Vale of Tawasentha, Leeds, Kats- 
baan, Hurley, Temple Hill, or Vail's Gate are but names, if 
known at all. The Treason House he might find it difficult to 
locate. He may know that Andre was executed at Tappan 
because the newspapers have harped on the subject more or 
less, but what does he know of the interesting old buildings 
and relics of the Revolution at the village of Palisades, but two 
miles from Tappan? 

Some of the statements made hereafter may be open to 
criticism by those versed in local lore, for I find it is far from 
difficult to get things wrong ; that part of the county histories, 
the history by towns, from which I must secure my foundation, 

ii 



has in some cases at least a fine reputation for inaccuracy, and 
the result is that I seem to know many things that are not so. 

However, I have made friends by the way, each a store- 
house of information pertaining to his own neighborhood, and 
feel like openly confessing obligations to such patient gentle- 
men as Dr. A. W. Van Slyke of Coxsackie, Dr. Claudius Van 
Dusen of Leeds, Mr. Franklin Salisbury of Catskill, Dr. 
John G. Van Slyke and Mr, B. M. Brink of Kingston (whose 
"Olde Ulster" is a gold mine). Dr. George W. Nash of Hurley, 
Mr. Ralph Lefevre of New Paltz (and his history of that 
town), Mr. E. M. Ruttenber and Dr. John Deyo of Newburgh, 
Mr. Weiant of the Treason House, Stony Point, and to others, 
while much is due to the help of Mr. Kelby, librarian of the 
New York Historical Society, and his able assistants. 

The books read to secure a local flavor or consulted for facts 
were, besides the afore slandered County Histories, the local 
histories of Saugerties, Kingston, New Paltz, Newburgh and 
Stony Point; articles in the Magazine of American History and 
Harpers' Monthly; Joshua Het Smith's "Authentic Nar- 
rative of the Causes which led to the Death of Major Andre", 
which same is about as reliable as the weather reports from 
Washington; an interesting novel published in 1861 entitled 
"The Dutch Dominie of the Catskills"; a story, "King Wash- 
ington", based on the Revolutionary happenings around New- 
burgh. The Ecclesiastical Records and the Documentary His- 
tory of New York. The able pen of John Fiske, and of course 
Lossing's Field Book of the Revolution. 

And now we will proceed to find out all about it. 

iii 



ALBANY TO CEDAR HILL. 



Cherry Hill, Norman's Kill, Tawasentha, The Abbey. 



To one who is interested in the picture possibilities the 
direction in which the trip is made has much to do with the 
result. If he is walking into the picture all the time, instead of 
away from it, he has it ever with him, and thus is explained 
why the west bank of the Hudson is this time explored from 
the north toward the south, rather than as the earlier discov- 
erers took it. 

We travel toward the sun and find both light and shade; 
with the sun at our backs all is flat, stale and unprofitable. But 
before turning our backs on Albany there is a word to be said 
concerning one or two points of its very early history. 

If the journey from Albany is to be made on foot, the best 
way to begin is by trolley, along South Pearl Street as far as 
Kenwood, passing on the way the Schuyler mansion at the 
head of Schuyler Street. Much has been written of the way 
that General Schuyler was elbowed out of his command by 



General Gates, after having done all the preliminary work 
which resulted in Burgoyne's capture, and how the former was 
unjustly deprived of the glory of that great achievement, but 
there now comes forward a descendant of General Gates who 
claims that Gates's appointment was made a year before, and 
that it was he who did the work and who only received his just 
deserts as the real leader; that Bancroft started the story and 
others have copied it without further investigation ; that there 
are papers extant which will prove this, which may all be so, 
or may not. I tell it as it was told to me. The quarrel is none 
of mine, for my stock comes from the land of the white pine 
ham and the wooden nutmeg; thus I have no first-hand in- 
terest, and while entirely willing to stir up a muss, there is no 
intention on my part of further mixing in. 

I remind myself of a small dog which once ate the scraps 
from our table. He was fond of a fight, but much preferred to 
do his fighting by proxy, so when he saw a likely prospect com- 
ing down the street, out he would rush to open the engage- 
ment that he knew would soon involve the larger dog on the 
place, and once the fight was well on our little friend would 
retire to the lawn, from which he could safely voice his ap- 
proval of the proceedings. 

In the outskirts of Albany, on the old King's Road toward 
the south, stands Cherry Hill, built by Philip Van Rensselaer 
in 1768, and though a frame structure, still in good standing. 
There was a time when Cherry Hill, situated as it was on the 
first rise of ground from the river flats, commanded a wonderful 
view of lowland and river and the distant highlands of Green- 



bush, but now the shriek of the Iron Horse and the soft-coal 
breath of his nostrils dominates all the foreground, and the 
modern dwellers in this ancient home have done well to shut 
themselves in with a heavy screen of foliage. 

A spacious hall introduces one to the inner life of the house, 
with rooms on either hand filled with fine old furniture and 
mementoes of the past. Possibly the most interesting piece is 
an old Dutch writing desk that has recently come into its own 
again, after long retirement in the attic; the grand old sofas 
that are scattered about look as though they were truly made 
for the use of tired humanity. 

Mount Hope, a step further south, is another one of the 
notable landmarks of the highway ; its lordly domain is as yet 
undisturbed by proximity to the all-absorbing city. 

Kenwood, formerly Lower Hollow (just as Normansville, 
further up the Norman's Kill, was at one time the Upper Hol- 
low), dates its settlement quite back to that of Albany itself, 
for there was a fort here as early as 1618 and a mill on the 
Norman's Kill by 1630. As an old document puts it: 

"There were about 18 families aboard who settled them- 
selves att Albany & made a small fort ; and as soon as they 
had built themselves some hutts of Bark: ye Mahikanders 
or River Indians, ye Maquase: Oneydes: Onnondages, Ca- 
yougas & Sinnekes, with ye Mahawawa or Ottawawaes In- 
dians came and made Covenants of friendship with ye sd 
Arien Jorise then Commander Bringing him great Presents 
of Bever or oyr Peltry & desyred that they might come & 
have a Constant free Trade with them which was concluded 
upon & ye sd nations came dayly with great multidus of 
Bever & traded them wvth ye Christians" 

— this in 1623-1626. During 



"which time ye sd Indians were all as quiet as Lambs & 
came & Traded with all ye freedom Imaginable". 

Near the bridge still stands an old house built by Robert 
Van Rensselaer, and here is a toll-gate which still collects a 
small tax from those who would travel over the Albany and 
Bethlehem turnpike, for this is even to-day the land of turn- 
pikes and toll-gates. It was early found necessary to supple- 
ment the King's Road, which kept well back from the river, by 
others more conveniently located, and thus came into being the 
turnpike connecting the river towns, which have grown up 
from the former "Landings", as well as the crossroads leading 
to the back settlements. 

The Norman's Kill rises in the foothills of the Helderbergs 
and works its way down through the little valleys to the Hud- 
son on the outskirts of Albany. Here came Albert Andriessen 
Bradt, surnamed the Norman, and after him the stream was 
named. Bradt came over with other Hollanders in 1630, came 
direct to Albany and almost immediately erected a mill on the 
stream which has since been known as the Norman's Kill. 
During the passage over a son was born to Bradt during a 
storm, which made so deep an impression on the father that he 
named his boy "Storm Van der See". 

The Norman's Kill was known to the Indians as Tawasen- 
tha, the place of many dead, and the second little valley south 
and opening on the river flats was to them Tawassagunshee, or 
the Valley of Peace ; here they buried their dead for many gen- 
erations. Longfellow uses the stream as a setting for the in- 
troduction to the Song of Hiawatha : — 



"In the Vale of Tawasentha, 
In the green and silent valley, 
By the pleasant watercourses, 
Dwelt the singer Nawadaha. 
Round about the Indian village 
Spread the meadows and the cornfields, 
And beyond them stood the forest, 
Stood the groves of singing pine trees. 
Green in Summer, white in Winter, 
Ever sighing, ever singing. 

"And the pleasant watercourses, 
You could trace them through the valley, 
By the rushing in the Spring-time, 
By the alders in the Summer, 
By the white fog in the Autumn, 
By the black line in the Winter ; 
And beside them dwelt the singer. 
In the Vale of Tawasentha, 
In the green and silent valley. 
There he sang of Hiawatha." 

Captain Kidd, returning from one of his cruises laden with 
spoil, disappeared up the river with his two vessels, so the 
story has been handed down. The contents of one was carried 
back into the recesses of the Katzbergs ; of the other, many are 
the legends locating it up and down the Hudson's shores. One 
of these tells how the Captain, cruising north, finally pushed 
his way among the islands of this locality and up the mouth of 
the Norman's Kill, and here, on the south bank of the stream, 
he buried the contents of his second sloop under the sod of a 



gently swelling knoll which guides the swift flowing waters to 
the great mother of all fountains. 

The present-day owners of the property frequently grant 
permission to dig for the treasure to those desirous of getting 
something for nothing, the one stipulation being that they fill 
the hole up again. Some four or five years ago rumor got 
abroad that some of the pirate gold had actually been found, 
and operations became active. One of the nearby land owners, 
with a laudable desire to keep up the interest, purchased a few 
Spanish ducats and such like coin, and when the subject came 
up in the course of conversation, and questions were put to 
him, he would bring from the depths of a pocket a handful of 
ancient coin that, without a word on his part, were immediately 
taken for the treasure-trove, and soon there was the wildest 
excitement which brought down a hoard of get-rich-quick 
folks, and in their train many newspaper reporters. The origi- 
nator of the joke modestly kept in the background, but the 
neighbors had seen the gold, and that was enough. The result 
was many tired backs and a story of treasure found that went 
the length of the land. 

The Norman's Kill flows into a channel caused by the long 
Van Rensselaer's Island, formerly known as Castle Island, 
from the fact that the early Dutch traders are said to have 
found here a fort, believed to be the remains of a French trad- 
ing post. In 1614 the Dutch themselves built a fort or stockade 
on the island. Champlain's little brush with the Iroquois on 
the lake which now bears the great navigator's name, and the 
consequent hatred of the dominant native race for the French 



which would make it impossible to maintain such a post, seems 
to interfere with the credibility of the French end of this story, 
but that is the way most of the histories give it to us. 

The Indians were pushed out of this neighborhood so soon 
after the arrival of the white man that there seem to be few 
local traditions concerning them. During the Revolutionary 
War they rendezvoused in the wilderness back from the river 
and, with the help of their Tory friends, were a continual men- 
ace to the scattered settlers. Arrow heads and stone hatchets 
are still dug up in the gardens hereabouts. 

The so-called River Road is compelled by the force of cir- 
cumstances and Spring freshets to keep so far from the river 
that it is seldom one gets the gleam of the water, but although 
the King's Road is the old Post Road, much of the interest 
seems to lie along the river bank, possibly because there has 
been no one to perpetuate the legends and stories of the older 
highway that are now so long forgotten as to be almost hope- 
lessly lost. One old colored woman who lives in New Balti- 
more, and claims to be 112 years old, tells how, when a girl, 
living on the King's Road, she saw the recruits for the war of 
18 1 2 marching past for the camp at Greenbush, and how the 
tired men would throw their guns and other top hamper by 
the roadside rather than be burdened longer. 

A mile below the Norman's Kill, on the River Road, stands 
the Abbey, now a road house of the better sort, built in early 
times by one of the tribe of Van Rensselaer. It has withstood 
the shock of Indian foray and the siege of time in a way to do 
great credit to its builders. 



A beautiful bed of blue lupin served as a pleasant introduc- 
tion to Cedar Hill, an old settled place some eight miles below 
Albany. Here settled the Nicols, Winnes and Van Wies, but 
the Scotch, Irish and English were early attracted to this re- 
gion, and we find such names as Sills, Cooper and others inter- 
mixed with the old Dutch names. One of the fine old houses 
of the country side is situated in Cedar Hill, the Nicol house, 
1720, a tall, three-story brick building with the hipped roof so 
popular two hundred years ago; its magnificence must have 
commanded unusual respect from the more humble neighbors. 
The house is to be reached by a road which branches off toward 
the east from the pike just after it crosses the Vlauman's Kill, 
or, if one is on foot, a path which starts east from in front of the 
hotel and wanders through wood and field, giving a scent of the 
pines by the way, provides a delightful short cut to the same 
end. 



COEYMANS TO COXSACKIE. 



Hannakrois Creek, New Baltimore, Oldest Bible, Bronck Mill, 
Ghosts and Yankees. 



A mile or so out of Cedar Hill the road mounts to a plateau 
which expands the view both east and west ; toward the latter 
are to be seen a few scattering peaks of the Helderbergs rising 
over the nearby limestone ridge known as the Kalkberg, while 
across the river are seen the low hills of the Taghkanic range, 
the backbone of the eastern counties. 

It is five or six miles to Coeymans, with only the village of 
Selkirk to break the succession of farm lands, and not a brook, 
under the shade of whose foliage fringe the wayfarer might be 
tempted to linger. 

Coeymans in the original Dutch was something like this — 
Kojiemans, after which it passed through the various stages of 
Koeyemans, Koeymans, Koymans, emerging finally as the 
name is now spelled, a sop to these degenerate times when 
man has no time for unnecessary letters in the words he uses. 
Barent Pieterse Koeymans came from Utrecht in 1636 and ran 



the mills of Patroon Van Rensselaer for some ten or eleven 
years, finally leasing them on his own account. In 1673 he pur- 
chased a large tract of land from the Indians, obtaining 
a patent from Governor Lovelace, but Patroon Van Rens- 
selaer owned the earth in those days, and any land grant 
was sure to result in a squabble ; the one with Koeymans lasted 
some thirty years, and finally resulted in the latter's buying 
peace by purchasing the patroon's claim. A local history gives 
the impression that the chief industries of the place are picnics 
and baled hay, though to the casual observer the making of 
bricks is much in evidence, and there are seasons when it is said 
the inhabitants cut ice. 

Old Peter's dwelling has gone with its master, but his store- 
house, down by the mouth of the creek in the northern edge of 
the village, is still standing, being readily seen from across the 
stream whose rapid waters plunge down the rocks in a series 
of beautiful falls and cascades through a gorge that has not 
had to contend as yet with the improving hand of man. The old 
house, like many of the region, is built of the flat field stones, 
graywhack, of the region. 

On the southern edge of the village is another stone house 
of the same construction, with a double pitch in the roof and a 
riot of vines to soften its stony exterior, a most attractive place 
to look on. The man who lives within these vineclad walls 
says they were erected two hundred and twenty-five years ago, 
and that the Rev. Van Dolson did it. About thirty-five or forty 
years ago the skeleton of a man was uncovered during the dig- 
ging of a ditch in front of this house. This revived an old story 

« 

10 



of two mysterious men who were seen around the village for a 
short time. One of them, who was plentifully supplied with 
money, vanished, and his companion gave it out that he had 
gone South; soon the companion disappeared, and nothing 
more was heard of either. The village solons made a murder 
case out of it when the skeleton was discovered, and since then 
a mysterious light has been occasionally seen by late home 
seekers hovering over the spot, and sharp ears detect the chink 
of ghostly money. 

A little valley that bounds the southern edge of the village 
affords an unnamed creek an opportunity to escape to the low- 
lands; from the sharp rise on its lower bank is to be had a 
striking view up the river whose foreground is the old store- 
house just mentioned, with the brook bordering the garden's 
edge. 

The hills behind which the sun sets in this region are the 
Helderbergs, a continuation of the Katzbergs. Somewhere 
among these foothills rises the Hannakrois Creek, which joins 
the Hudson something less than a mile below Coeymans; the 
name signifies a crowing cock. It seems that a cloudburst back 
among the hills filled this little stream to overflowing, and 
among the debris which came down with the torrent was a barn 
door, on which perched a rooster, crowing defiance to the ele- 
ments which had kidnapped him in so unusual a manner. The 
grotesqueness of the situation fixed the name of the creek for 
all time. 

This is largely a limestone region, and it is no unusual thing 
for the streams hereabouts to drop out of sight for a short trip 

II • 



through some underground cavern, there to cool their running 
gear before facing the warm sun in the valleys below. 

The earliest stage route of which I find any record was es- 
tablished by act of Legislature February i6th, 1803, to run from 
Albany to the New Jersey line. A wicked trust was formed, 
to which was granted the exclusive right to run stages over 
this road, it agreeing to charge not more than five cents a mile 
and to make a trip at least once each week. The back road, 
known in those days as the King's Road, was the stage route, 
but this never gained the importance of that along the eastern 
side of the Hudson, it being used possibly rather as a means 
of communication between the various towns than for through 
traffic. After spending a night with Washington at New 
Windsor the Marquis de Castellux, on his way north, crossed 
to Fishkill Landing "to gain the eastern road, preferred by 
travelers to the western". 

New Baltimore is the next river town south of Coeymans. 
The locality was early settled by Van Der Zees and Van Slycks, 
who were soon followed by Quakers from Dutchess County. 
Ebenezer Wicks, a Baptist preacher of the old school, who la- 
bored with the saw and plane six days of the week, and with 
precept on the seventh, came to New Baltimore in 1802 from 
Rensselaerville. As soon as his house was built he opened it 
for services, and preached here to his neighbors until he was 
able to erect a building which served as both school and meet- 
ing house for many years. The good man left a fragrant mem- 
ory which lasted long after he was dust. 

New Baltimore started as a fishing village, but early devel- 

12 



oped a leaning toward trade and obtained a considerable 
importance which it held so long as the river was the only prac- 
tical transportation route to New York, but since the advent 
of the railroad on the farther shore it has gradually faded, until 
now only the shipyard is left, and that, in these degenerate 
days, builds flat boats for the ice trade and talks of the days 
when it produced sloops and even a schooner. 

The old Tunis Willemse Van Slyck house, built in 17 13, re- 
paired in 1764, and given over to the owl and the bat in 1884, 
stood on the river bank about a mile and a half below New 
Baltimore. Tunis was the first of the name in the town; his 
bible is the oldest printed bible in existence; it was thirty- 
seven years in the making, 15 18-1555. Made in Dordrecht, 
each letter is printed by hand, and the pictures are handmade. 
It contains the family record for four hundred years; is now 
owned by Benjamin F. Van Slyke (modern way of spelling the 
name) of Saginaw, Mich. The Massachusetts Historical So- 
ciety once offered $10,000 for the book. The second Van Slyck 
house, itself old as things go in this country, stands hard by 
the ruins. In 1666 Tunis W. sends to Holland for his prop- 
erty and buys a farm at Nickayuna. His son Andrew built a 
stone house near what is now the New Baltimore railroad sta- 
tion, which has disappeared, but the one built by Baltus, son of 
Andrew, near by, still stands. The fourth generation was rep- 
resented by Tunis B., the fifth by Ephraim J., and the sixth by 
Dr. Andrew Webster Van Slyke. 

This old Van Slyke house conveys, like many of these an- 
cient houses of simple construction, a comfortable, homelike 

13 



feeling that brings a smile of sympathy; those old farmer- 
architects seemed to have had the sense of proportion well de- 
veloped. 

It is seven miles to Coxsackie, and there are two ways of 
reaching that end : the River Road and the old King's Road. 
In order to test the capacity of the latter for entertainment I 
took that way south, but did not find it sufficiently interesting 
to entice to a second trial. 

Something about m}^ appearance must have indicated what 
I thought of the road, for the first wagon that overtook me 
drew up with an invitation to ride, and so I bumped some miles 
over a road which, according to all tradition should have 
brought up at Dublin. However, there came a crossroad which 
beckoned toward the river, and I said good-bye and took to 
shank's mare. This crossroad was quite the roughest bit yet, 
though according to one who was mending his fences by its 
side it was in better condition than at any other time this 
Spring. 

The sky looked this morning as though yesterday was a 
weather breeder, one of the kind that plays tricks on travelers, 
for there was much uncertainty during the early hours as to 
what the day would bring forth. Even by lo o'clock there was 
considerable dubiousness overhead, but by this time I had 
found the creek that should be Coxsackie, but which is Sickles. 
Here, about 1670, Pieter Bronck built a gristmill, which to the 
day of its death was run by an overshot wheel. Nothing now 
remains but the rough foundation walls, festooned with vines, 
which give a touch of the human to the turbulent little stream 

14 



which comes tumbling down over the rocks after the usual 
manner of brooks when they fall on stony ground. The 
steep, wooded banks, most effectively carpeted with moss and 
ferns, rise abruptly from the water, and what a place it is for 
the pedestrian to idle away an hour with the squirrels and noise 
of falling water for company. All this is on the road which 
takes one into Coxsackie by way of River Street. 

Coxsackie means hoot-owl, and various are the ways of 
spelling it, Kocks-Hacky being the way an old deed puts it, 
while the original Indian word was Koixhacking, the pronunci- 
ation of which is supposed to represent the hoot of an owl. 

Pieter Bronck came this way from Albany, and in January, 
1662, purchased the land from the Indians; and immediately 
thereafter came the Van Bergens, Van Loons and others. 
Jonas Bronck, the first, came to this country, it is said, in his 
own ship with much silver and many servants, and settled in 
Westchester County in what is now the Bronx Borough of 
Greater New York, the name being written Bronx in the pos- 
sessive rather than Bronck's. Jonas had been here some five 
or six years when the Indians caught him and sl^irmed him 
alive. His widow afterward married Arent Van Corleair, com- 
missioner at Rensselaerwyck, and her sons appear to have 
moved up the Hudson with her. ■ '■' • 

Pieter Bronck is on record as owning several lots iri Bever- 
wyck (Albany) in 1645, including the brewery which he sold in 
1662. He then bought land at Coxsackie and erected the first 
mill in the town in 1670, on Sickles Creek. 

The Bronck Patent extended from the mouth of Sickles 

15 



Creek to opposite Notan (the spelling in the Bronck Patent of 
1662) or Nuten Hook, and went back to the Indian footpath at 
the base of the limerock range. 

Leendert Bronck, son of Pieter, was married at Albany July 
14, 1717. Jan Leendertse Bronck, born July 14, 1721. Leonard 
Bronck, born May 11, 1751, married daughter of Robert Van- 
denberg. This Leonard and his brother-in-law, John R. Van- 
denberg, were the two principal men in forming Greene 
County. Leonard was member of Assembly 1 786-1 798, and 
State Senator 1800. 

Leonard Bronck, 2d, born June 29, 1797, died February 3, 
1872. Adelaide, daughter of Leonard 2d, married Rev. Lewis 
Lampman. The Leonard Bronck homestead is said to be prob- 
ably the oldest house standing in Coxsackie. The earliest men- 
tion of it is October 8, 1736, when Jan Bronck conveyed to his 
son Leonard land "opposite to his house". Additions have 
been made to it at various times, and on one part is the inscrip- 
tion "J. B. J. B. L. B. C. B. 1792.", the initials of Jan, Jonas, 
Leonard and Caspar, four of the sons of the first settler. On a 
still older part is the date 1738. This homestead with the large 
tract of land adjoining, and including the large part of 
"Bronck's hundred acres" are now the property of Rev. Lewis 
Lampman. 

The one old house in the present village of Coxsackie is situ- 
ated on the river bank at the upper landing. It was built by 
William Wells, a New Englander who came to this region 
some time before the Revolution. Just below, opposite the 
next house, is the old landing which is uncovered at low water. 

16 



This dates back to the time when this was "The Landing", and 
the real Coxsackie was back a mile or so, w^here now lies West 
Coxsackie. 

There is a theory that the large deposits of brick clay which 
are found in the Hudson Valley are glacial deposits. If this is 
so the clay beds at Coxsackie may indicate two glacial epochs. 
The lowest stratum is thirty feet thick — this is blue ; while on 
top of this is a layer of yellow clay eight feet in depth ; above 
this is another thirty foot layer of blue clay, capped by still an- 
other eight feet of yellow clay. Now the yellow clay is merely 
the blue clay which has been oxidized by the action of light 
and air, such action penetrating, in the course of time, to a 
depth of eight feet, and such a layer below the upper stratum 
of blue is taken to indicate that there was a long period when 
the sun shone on this surface, while the second layer of blue 
must mean a second glacial period. 

Robert Owen, an English socialist, visited this country dur- 
ing the first quarter of the last century, and coming to Cox- 
sackie in 1824 he founded there the Forestville Commonwealth, 
for those who believed that all property should be held in com- 
mon for the general good. The scheme was promptly recog- 
nized as a lazy man's paradise, and it soon became rather over- 
loaded with those who did not care to work for anybody's good, 
the result being that it came to an end with a suddenness that 
must have given a shock to the non-workers. 

About this time the ice industry began to attract experi- 
mentalists, and in February, 1828, the first cargo of solidified 
Hudson River was shipped from Greene County to New York. 

17 



The King's Road from Albany to Esopus is supposed to 
have been laid out about 1710, and naturally the original town 
grew up in the neighborhood of the highway, and as naturally, 
when the river traffic began to assume supreme importance, 
the town drifted down to its banks, but the old houses around 
which most of the colonial and Revolutionary history clings are 
back on the Flats, the "Garden of Greene County". 

On the bank of the creek in the village of West Coxsackie 
stands the little stone house built by Pieter Bronck, son of Jan, 
he who built the mill. The house probably stands to-day as it 
did in the days of its youth, and in its simplicity and singleness 
of purpose is more or less typical of the early Dutch home- 
steads. In front of this, and close on the road, stands a later 
Bronck home, built in the usual substantial manner of the 
Dutch forefathers. In 1704 Jan Bronck and Jan Van Loon en- 
tered a petition that their quit rent might be remitted "in con- 
sideration of their services during the war". 

The Van Bergen homestead stands on the main street of 
West Coxsackie, where it may be seen of all men. Many years 
ago it fell on evil days, was fast crumbling to pieces, was sup- 
posed to be haunted, the beautiful tiles around its fireplaces 
were taken out and now adorn the parlors of various neighbor- 
ing houses, but of late it has renewed its youth and looks good 
for another hundred and fifty years. On the front facing the 
road are iron letters P. V. B. I., on the rear 1764; the letters 
stand for Petrus or Peter Van Bergen, the I being added for 
the iron band that surrounds it and projects through the wall 

18 



and is spiked to the fourth beam which holds the house to- 
gether. 

Doctor A. W. Van Slyke, who is the great genealogist of 
this region, tells me that this Peter was born in Albany, 1694. 
His father, Marten Gerritse Van Bergen, came to Beverwyck 
in 1640, being closely related to the patroon. The original log 
house of the pioneer Van Bergen stood just west of this stone 
house. It was attacked by Indians one night and Marten Ger- 
ritse was wounded and died with the arrow flint in his body at 
the house now known as the Abbey while being carried to 
Albany. This house was within sight of the Catskill Path 
from Canada, and it was an easy matter for a marauding band 
of Indians to see the smoke from its hearthstone. By this time 
the local Indians were armed with guns, and the fact that 
arrows were used in this foray is taken to indicate that the 
Indians were from Canada, as those were still using the ancient 
weapon of the savage. 

Peter's son, Anthony, who built the stone house just to the 
northwest across the creek, about 1754, was colonel of the nth 
Regiment in the Revolutionary War. Peter's son Henry 
lived in this house with his father. He was captain of the Cox- 
sackie company in the Revolutionary War. Peter, Anthony 
and Henry lie in the graveyard, about 100 steps to the west. 

In 1733 Peter gave the ground upon which the first church 
south of Albany was built; it adjoined this graveyard. Peter 
died in 1778 with his old Dutch Bible on his lap. The book, 
containing much in his handwriting, is now in the possession of 
Miss Eleanor Heermance, a descendant, who lives in Coxsackie. 

19 



The following is told by Dr. Van Slyke as a specimen of the 
spook stories that were believed in former times. He says: 
"One evening I was in Catskill, and invited an aged lawyer, 
native of Coxsackie flats, to ride up with me on the back road. 
It grew dark and rained heavily as we came along under the 
high rocks to the west, but let up as we reached the vicinity 
where my companion had spent the early days of his life, and 
he began telling spook stories that happened when he was 
young. The colored driver, true to his race, took a lively in- 
terest, and soon brought his horses down to a walk, so that he 
could give his entire attention to the conversation. There lived 
a man, a Mr. Short (large of stature), who could not sleep 
nights because of the funeral processions with which his imagi- 
nation pestered him, and who had a window cut in his pantry 
that his ghostly visitants might the more readily get out doors. 
When the narrator was a small boy this man pushed him out 
of the road at one time to 'let a funeral procession go by'. The 
boy could not see it, but this spook seer told him who was about 
to die, and so it came to pass as was predicted. 

"Then he told one of his own experiences, how he had once 
seen the 'Woman in White' at the bridge over Murderers' Creek. 
It was supposed that a woman had been murdered and buried 
under the bridge. He, a young man, was returning at mid- 
night with his brother from the landing, coming down the old 
King's Road to their home. At the bridge their gentle old mare 
reared up and would not put a foot on its planks until urged 
on with the whip, and on crossing, the 'Woman in White' sud- 
denly appeared to them. The frightened horse started to run, 

20 



and as they glanced fearfully over their shoulders, there sat 
her ghostess-ship on the empty rear seat of the wagon, so close 
that they could see the veins in her face. The moon shone 
bright on her long hair, which hung limp down her back in spite 
of the furious pace at which they were going, but even as they 
looked she was gone, vanished into moonshine. This is a true 
story, told by the man who saw the marvel himself, a college 
graduate who kept a horse chestnut in his pocket to ward off 
rheumatism." The "Woman in White" was well known to the 
inhabitants in the days of Dominie Livingston, whose parish- 
ioners going home from revival services were frequently com- 
pelled to take another road by this female Horatius. 

In the good old times one of that restless, prying tribe of 
Yankees — this time a schoolmaster — found his way to this 
land of rich crops and plump daughters. He came ostensibly 
to teach the Dutch youth of Coxsackie that knowledge which 
the copybooks say is power. This specimen of the genius 
seems to have been particularly strong on ciphering, for he 
soon figured out who was the richest father with a marriage- 
able daughter, and promptly proceeded to business and, in 
spite of all the good burgher could do, secured the girl, there 
being no Brom Bones about to dispute possession, as was the 
case in the love affairs of another of his class further down the 
river. (For the facts in this case see the writings of Mr. W. 
Irving.) 

No sooner had this interloper from the land of the white- 
pine ham made secure his position in the family than he began 
to cipher anew. Now the good Dutchman had other daughters, 

21 



both of whom secured husbands in the course of time, as rich 
girls should, and these husbands, it seems, expected to share 
equally in the vast estate, but nothing was further than this 
from the intentions of the former schoolmaster, and nothing 
of the sort happened, for by some hocus-pocus or necromancy 
that they could never clearly see through, the Yankee son-in- 
law got most of the land, while the others were largely supplied 
with a species of brick known to agriculturists as gold, and it is 
said the descendants of these poor but honest relations even 
unto this day wrinkle the nose when they pass by. 



22 



COXSACKIE TO ATHENS. 



Geology, Tory and Indian, Klinkenberg, Four Mile Point, Esperanza, 
Loonenberg. 



If one follows the highway across the Flats to the foot of 
Guinea Hill he comes to a group of buildings in which the Van- 
denbergs hived. The first and oldest stands several hundred 
feet south of the road, built in 1763 by John R., a grandson of 
Richard Jans Vandenberg, the ancestor of the Coxsackie tribe 
of that name. The original dwelling has disappeared, though 
its outline still shows in the nearby turf. Further south and 
across the creek, a branch of Coxsackie Creek, stands the house 
built by Hendrick Vandenberg, while directly west on the 
slope of Guinea Hill is that built by Richard, son of Hendrick 
and member of Coxsackie company in the nth New York 
Regiment during the Revolution. On the north of the main 
road stands the last house, built by Peter, son of Richard ; they 
are all the usual substantial stone houses of the early Dutch 
times. 

There is some uncertainty in regard to the ancestors of the 

23 



American branch of the Vandenberg family. It seems that 
William of Orange had a brother-in-law by name Vanderberg 
(the old Dutch spelling in early Coxsackie records is Vander- 
berk), Governor of Guelderland and Overyssel, who fled by 
night to avoid death at the hands of the Catholics — this was at 
the time of the Reformation, and some time before the discov- 
ery of America. It is not certain that Richard Janse Vanden- 
berg descended from him, but it may have happened that way. 

The Catskill Path, as the Indian footpath to Canada was 
called, crossed the creek here, and the road just west of the first 
Vandenberg house follows the exact line of the path. 

The highway now winds up the slope of Guinea Hill, called 
so but a few years ago because of the character of the popula- 
tion, to the toll-gate at Climax. Our turnpike left the Cox- 
sackie Flats an eighth of a mile back and has since been clam- 
bering over the rocks. 

The following chapter is furnished by Dr. Van Slyke, who is 
geologist as well as genealogist: — 

"Three miles to the east flows the Hudson River in its rocky 
bed, with cliffs of Hudson River shale and other lower silurian 
rock standing nearly vertical. Over the flats at our feet the 
blue clay lies deep, put there in the glacial period. To the south 
may be seen what were once islands, but now wooded, rocky 
eminences, their north ends worn down to the old lower sand- 
stone, their south ends still covered by Hudson River shale, 
which covers the several layers of rock that lie above the sand- 
stone, just as may be seen at Prospect Grove in the Hudson 
River to-day, showing that the waters flowed from the north, 

24 



perhaps when Lake Ontario emptied down through this valley. 

"Coming up the hill the rocks stand nearly vertical, but 
pointing east, the lower massive sandstone, then the third layer 
over this covered by knobs, mud markings, but the opposite 
of what is produced by the tide along the Hudson River shore. 
To the north and south high pinnacles of limerock rise, masses 
of fossils. Break a piece of rotting limestone and the fine ten- 
drils of the crinoids are perfect. In the stone walls — nothing 
but fossils falling apart and boulders brought by the glaciers. 

"One step behind the toll-gate, to the south, brings one to a 
precipice, the north wall, cut back by some ancient waterfall, 
which once was far out to the east. In the bottom of the gorge 
out from under the huge rocks comes a creek, a branch of Cox- 
sackie. Climb through the woods over the hill, nearly 2,000 
feet, and one comes to a hole down in the rock where the creek 
falls twenty feet. It can be traversed 225 feet through several 
fine caves, and another falls, to forty feet down. This hole was 
probably at first but a leak from a lake above ; it goes through 
solid limerock. 

"This is the border of the ancient Mediterranean Sea that 
once extended to Ohio, in which the coral reefs and shell pro- 
ducing water animals formed the lime rocks through millions 
of years, when this was the west shore of the great continent 
extending through Greenland, Iceland, Norway, Europe, Eng- 
land. Just beyond the toll-gate is a bit of gravel, and beneath 
fine building sand. It is a different kind of world from that just 
left. Trilobites and Orthocerata are here burned into lime. 

"Cross a field to the north — there is the quarry whence blocks 

25 



were taken more than seventy years ago to make the locks for 
the Erie Canal. The fossils project one-half inch from perpen- 
dicular walls facing the south, while on the surface they can be 
picked up, chiefly barnacles and crinoids. A hundred yards west 
of the gate is a large quarry — limerock, fossils — against its foot 
a gravel bed — an old shore. This rock contains so much phos- 
phates that it cannot be burned into lime, due to the lingula 
which secreted the shells — phosphate instead of carbonate of 
lime. The next ledges west, younger, are excellent limestone 
for burning ; these lime rocks are Devonian. The flint in these 
is black, called in geologies chert. It is said to have been pro- 
duced mostly as a secretion from sponges growing in the warm 
sea. Across one field to the northeast is what is known as the 
diamond field. Crystals of quartz here abound, a pure white 
silex or flint. This is on the old Indian footpath." 

In connection with the underground waterworks mentioned 
above it is interesting to note the discovery of an old-time pipe 
line system, concerning which no one appears to have any 
recollection or knowledge. Some time since, when excavations 
were being made a system of wooden water pipes, consisting of 
bored logs, was discovered leading from the above lake to the 
upper landing in Coxsackie. Apparently the water was drawn 
on the siphon principle, and apparently a break occurred which 
put the system out of business and it was never repaired. 

There are several interesting old houses toward the south. 
The Leonard Bronck house, a mile and a half down the King's 
Road, represents several periods. The first building, erected 
about 1690, has an unusually sharp peak, in the upper part of 

26 



which are two oval openings which are commonly spoken of 
as loopholes, but their position and shape suggest that they 
were intended as ornamental rather than useful. The next build- 
ing, north of 1690, is connected with its older brother by a little 
brick passageway; this was erected in 1735, while an addition 
at the rear of i6go bears date 1792. It is an oddly picturesque 
group of buildings. At the back is a small, detached building 
which is said to represent an unhappy period in the life of the 
Leonard Bronck household. The first wife died, leaving a large 
family, and the widower in due time married again, but very 
much against the wishes of his children, and matters became 
so strained that finally this fourth building was erected, and to 
this the second wife was banished — at least so the story goes. 
From the Leonard Bronck place it is possible to walk east 
and then south about two and a half miles to the old Spoor 
homestead, where the railroad crosses Murderers' Creek. 
Erected about 1741 by Johannes Spoor, it was so long the 
dwelling place of generation after generation of Spoors that 
the locality became known as Spoorenberg. Across the stream 
is the old family burial ground, where lie Johannes Spoor, died 
February 15, 1761, and his wife Eva, died April 20, 1796. John 
D. Spoor died at Sackett's Harbor December 13, 1812, aged 
thirty-nine, while in command of a company of militia stationed 
there; he was a celebrated surveyor. Derrck, the son of John 
D., was the last of the name to own the place. When old and 
poor he spent what little he had to put stones to the graves 
that needed them and a fence around the burial ground. He 
died February 26, 1880. 

27 



On the swing back to the village stands a lonesome stone 
house with windows gone and doors creaking in the wind, a fit 
spot for spooks and goblins. This was built by a Hallenbeck in 
1774, as the iron figures on the west wall of the house attest. 

The grandfather of all American Hallenbecks was Caspar 
Jacobse of Beverwyck, 1654. Next was Jan Casperse, who was 
buried in Albany in 1730. Then Caspar Janse (se meaning son 
of), whose will was proved in 1756. The next generation was 
named Martinus, and he was born at Athens in 1715, and lived 
just out of Coxsackie in a stone house that has been taken down 
in recent years. This was the rich member of the family whose 
daughters sent to England for their gowns, and it was he who 
built the 1774 house, which is here illustrated, for his son Cas- 
par, who was born January 16, 1745. At the conclusion of the 
Revolutionary War Caspar went to Canada, leaving his family 
in this house. On the death of his wife he married in Canada, 
and was the progenitor of the Canadian Hallenbecks. Martin, 
son of Caspar, lived in the family home ; then cam.e in succeed- 
ing generations Francis, Isaac and Frederick, the ninth in the 
line, and about twenty years ago the property passed into 
other hands. (The Hallenbeck facts come from Mr. E. C. Hal- 
lenbeck of Coxsackie, through Dr. Van Slyke.) 

By climbing the fence and the little hill back of the Hallen- 
beck house the traveller comes suddenly on another old relic 
of the days when Tories and Indians were a live issue. 

The Van Schaack place, an unpretentious frame house that 
one could easily pass by with a glance. The Van Schaacks were 
true patriots, and hence a mark for the enemy, and in due 

28 



course the Indians came and the Tories descended, and fell 
upon that house, but being founded on eighteen-inch square 
yellow pine beams it withstood the shock, though the place 
was badly wrecked, and an attempt was made to fire it. The 
old Van Schaack homestead is several miles over toward the 
west, but this place has been occupied by the family for many 
generations. 

Now by various turnings and twistings we get back once 
more to Coxsackie on the river, and take up the trail toward 
Athens. 

At a very early date the Indians would occasionally bring in 
lead to barter for beads and the bright colored cloths which 
the Dutch had to dispose of. They claimed that the lead was 
found back in the Katzbergs, but persistently refused to dis- 
close where, and no amount of search on the part of the white 
men availed to locate the mine. There is a tradition that a 
certain avaricious old chief offered to trade the secret for some 
much-coveted articles in the possession of Matthias Hough- 
taling, the patentee, and upon the refusal of the latter to meet 
the Indian's demands the redskin became angry, and denounc- 
ing Houghtaling declared that the location of the mine should 
remain a secret so long as any one of the name continued in 
possession of the land. This prophecy possibly accounts for 
the failure of all efforts to find this hidden source of wealth, 
even those who summon spirits to their aid have in vain 
called on the shades of departed braves for the information. 

Once out of Coxsackie one gets the first good view of the 
Catskills, provided the weather does not interfere. The road 

29 



climbs up from the village to the top of the first terrace bor- 
dering the river, and an extended view over the flats toward 
the west is to be had — beautiful farming country, punctuated 
here and there with great barns and lesser dwellings, leads the 
eye up to the mountains. 

As we proceed the road gradually mounts the slope of 
Klinkenberg, or Echo Hill, on whose summit stands the frame 
house of old Ben Tryon, who lived during the period of the 
Civil War. The countryside was much worked up over the 
question of Tryon's loyalty, he being openly accused of cop- 
perhead tendencies, and when a story got about that he was 
flying the Rebel flag there were many ready to believe it, and 
a company of some twenty-five lusty young fellows was or- 
ganized in Coxsackie to investigate. They had a few old guns 
among them which were more ornamental than useful, but must 
have made a brave show as they marched down behind the 
village drum. When they arrived old Ben was in bed, but it 
did not take him long to arise, and he was soon busy explain- 
ing that the flag in question was a very much faded Union 
emblem. The boys, however, went on the principle that seeing 
was believing, and the suspect was finally obliged to get the 
flag down for inspection, that his neighbors might be convinced 
with their own "convincion", whereupon the young patriots, 
having marched up the hill, marched down again, but even to 
the present day there are those who only remember that it was 
a Rebel flag that was hoisted, so kindly does the world take to 
its neighbor's black eye. 

Down on the river is Four Mile Point, with its lighthouse 

30 



and little settlement all spread out to view. Here lived Jacob 
Hallenbeck, and here still stands his dwelling. Jacob was a 
Tory a hundred and thirty years ago, and his house became a 
noted resort for other black sheep of the same way of thinking. 
One of the early owners of Four Mile Point was Capt. William 
Beck, who appears to have been of a piratical turn of mind, and 
to have had many of the high attributes of the better known 
Captain Kidd. There are tales in plenty of dark and stormy 
nights wherein treasure was buried, and the place is still at- 
tractive to those honest citizens who would rather dig for gold 
than potatoes. 

In the northern edge of Athens there is a break in the hill 
which enables Murderers' Creek to escape to the Hudson. The 
farm which, in the old days, extended north along the river 
from the mouth of the creek was known as Korst-Veloren, 
meaning "lost crust". What little romance or tragedy is com- 
memorated in the name is now unknown, lost in the mists of 
antiquity. Just how the creek came by its name is a question, 
but it is probably a corruption of another word, for in early 
deeds the stream is mentioned at Mudenaer and as Mudder 
Creek, presumably named after some Dutchman that lived 
along its banks. 

The upper or northern part of Athens shows many evi- 
dences of the day when it was a boom town, then known as 
Esperanza (Hope). The remarkable success of the New Eng- 
land Quakers in building up Hudson, just across the river, gave 
the cue to certain enterprising gentlemen, who purchased this 
tract and cut it up into lots. There were five men in the enter- 
al 



prise, three of whom were Livingstons. The names of the pro- 
moters were to be perpetuated in the avenues, while the cross 
streets received such original appellations as Bread, Wheat, 
Rye, Barley, Cider, Beer, Rice, Meal, etc. 

Present-day speculators might get points from the pros- 
pectus of the wonderful city of Esperanza. It was to be the 
eastern end of the canal, which was already in the minds of 
men; as the town grew and flourished it would wrest from 
Albany the honor of being the capital of the state, and would 
be the gate to the "western country". For a time things flour- 
ished, many lots were unloaded and much gold changed hands. 
Handsome brick houses were built and a fine church, but when 
the lots were sold there was no one to push, the bubble burst, 
and to-day there are but few citizens who ever heard of that 
dream town of Hope. 

Right in the midst of Esperanza, on Washington Street, op- 
posite Wheat, stands almost the only remaining relic of old 
Loonenberg, the house built in 1724 by Albertus Van Loon, 
son of Jan the first. The place has witnessed at least one 
tragedy, when Anthony R. Livingston, one of the executors of 
the Van Loon estate, stabbed James Byrnes during a contest 
over the will. Livingston was indicted, but never brought to 
trial, and in due time moved to Tarrytown, where the nightly 
goings on of ghostly Hessians and Cowboys must have greatly 
disturbed the repose of his soul. 

One of the noted river catastrophies, and one which led to 
the passing of some much-needed laws for the protection of 
those who travel by water in this state, occurred opposite 

32 



Athens on April 7, 1845, when a rock known as Dooper Island 
combined with a dark night and a snow squall to the undoing 
of the steamer Swallow. The boat started from New York 
with two others close behind, each bent on reaching Albany 
first. The poor Swallow skimmed too close to the rocks, and 
as her bow ran high out of the water the hull broke in two and 
twenty-five of those on board were drowned. 

Of buildings one hundred years old, but without any other 
interest, there are a number in the town. Timothy Bunker, 
Quaker, who ran the ferry to Hudson, built a dwelling in 1800 
at the corner of Warren and Market Streets. If Timothy's 
ghost could come back and see the ease with which the present 
ferryboat is propelled he would no doubt marvel greatly at the 
advancement of science since the days of the "gunwaled scow" 
that the early settlers thought a grand ferryboat. 



33 



OLD CATSKILL OR LEEDS. 



Limestreet, Salisbury House, Phcenician Bead, Ghosts, ancient and modern. 



To one who comes into Athens from the north there are 
offered three ways of departing therefrom. First by the Scho- 
harie Turnpike, by which the traveller may reach Limestreet, 
thence moving south towards Leeds by the Valley or Cox- 
sackie Road, or that road which keeps in touch with the Hans 
Vosen Kill. Another way is by the Athens Turnpike direct to 
Leeds, and still another is the River Road to Catskill. 

One of the interesting features of Limestreet is the disap- 
pearing Hans Vosen Kill. The turnpike takes advantage of 
the natural bridge offered to make a crossing without any ex- 
pense to the county.* Beyond the flats by the kill, and on the 
east side of the road, stood until recent years, and possibly 

* Near by, about a quarter mile west of the Kalkberg Chapel, stands an 
old stone house well back from the road, whose builder, Nicholas Parry, 
immortalized himself, wife and son, by carving the initials of all three with 
the date of the building " May ye 17, 1767 " on a stone by the side of the 
door. It is on this farm that the kill does its great vanishing act. 

34 



stands still, "a birch tree standing on a rock", which in 1767 is 
mentioned in the survey of the Catskill Patent as one of the 
boundary marks. 

Everywhere are family burial grounds; some fenced from 
the cattle and kept in good order, others allowed to run wild. 
The early gravestones were seldom more than rough pieces of 
rock without inscriptions, and in some cases even these have 
been removed and the ground ploughed over. One farmer used 
the family markers to build him a wall and then planted pota- 
toes among his forefathers, of so little account were dead men 
in his eyes. 

Homesteads from which many a well-known name of to- 
day has sprung are frequently to be met with; houses, gen- 
erally of stone, from one to two hundred years old, with great 
beams eighteen inches square, each representing a monarch 
of the forest, and now and then window panes iridescent with 
age. We pass them by with a glance and hardly a thought of 
what has befallen under the aged roof, but if the walls could 
only cry out, what tales would be told of the struggles of the 
early pioneer, of Indian raids and husking bees, of the rude log 
cabin, which was allowed to disintegrate when the second gen- 
eration moved into the new house, of the owner of to-day, a 
rich banker or merchant maybe in the great city to the south, 
but still of the old name and the old blood, who occasionally 
visits the place in his touring car for the sake of auld-lang-syne. 

"Old Catskill", now known as Leeds, lies on a beautiful 
plain surrounded by beautiful hills and backed by the glorious 
Katzbergs. It was an important centre when the present Cats- 

35 



kill village was merely "Het Strand", the Landing. On these 
fertile bottoms the Mohican Indian held sway, raising by 
proxy so to speak his Winter's supply of maize and beans ; the 
squaw did the work in those days while the man wore the 
feathers. The native agriculturist laid out no money on farm 
machinery — a hoe made from the shoulder blade of a deer, or 
a clam shell fastened to a handle being the principal tool. 

Shortly before Hudson sailed up the river the all-conquer- 
ing Iroquois, or the Mohawk branch of the confederation, had 
descended on this mountain region. It appears to have been a 
case of brains against numbers, and the brains won the day, 
the result being so disastrous that the local Indians never again 
ranked as a power though they continued to inhabit the region, 
paying tribute to the victors. When the white men came with 
their death-dealing thunder and lightning the river Indians 
were disposed to welcome them with open arms as allies against 
the powerful enemy in the North, and it may be for this reason 
that the Indians so readily surrendered the rich lands along 
the river. 

Sylvester Salisbury, an ensign in the British army, took part 
in the conquest of New Netherland, and in July, 1670, was 
placed in command of Fort Albany. Three years later the Brit- 
ish power in the Hudson Valley was temporarily overthrown, 
and Salisbury was sent a prisoner to Spain, but at the close of 
the war he returned to New York and was again put in charge 
of his old post. In those days a landed estate was the only 
riches worth having, and it was natural that Salisbury should 
look about him with that end in view. In 1677 he, with Marten 

36 



Gerritse Van Bergen, whose son Peter's house still stands in 
West Coxsackie, purchased an estate at Catskill. 

Sylvester Salisbury died before the patent was obtained, 
but his son Francis took possession in his father's stead, and in 
1705 built a stone mansion that still stands on the northeast 
side of the Windham Turnpike, a half mile beyond Catskill 
Creek ; it is still the finest building of the region. On the front 
are the initials of the builder and his wife, "F. S. M. S.", at- 
tached to the iron spikes which are driven into the second floor 
beams, while those holding the beams of the attic floor are 
ornamented with the date 1705. Within there is little change. 
One of the rooms has been ceiled and plastered but the other 
still shows the great square beams that were popular before 
the days of sawmills, while its little window-panes are discol- 
ored with age. This room is a storehouse of old furniture that 
would break the heart of an antiquary : sofas spacious enough 
to shelter the entire family, straight-backed chairs that a few 
generations ago were stored away in the attic, but have now 
been returned to their original state ; an old flintlock and pow- 
der horn hang over the door. The most remarkable treasure 
the house contains is a desk that four hundred years ago was 
the pride of one of the Doges of Venice. It is an exquisite 
piece of inlaid work, and contains mechanism which pulls back 
the stiff roll-top as the writing shelf is drawn forv/ard. 

One of the peculiar features of the house is the loopholes, 
not that loopholes in themselves were peculiar in houses of 
that day and generation, but here they were only placed on 
the back of the house, the slaves' quarters. They are placed 

37 



at both the first and second floors, and the theory of the present 
owner of the building is that they were intended, not to ward 
off the attacks of Indians or hostiles, but to protect the female 
slaves from the colored brother. 

Back of the house is the barn. Almost immediately after 
the patent was granted Andries and Hendrick Witbeck settled 
on this place as tenants, and it is believed that this barn was 
built by them between 1682 and 1692. An old pear tree, which 
is little more than skin and bones to-day, stands in front of the 
house. It was full grown 150 years ago and is pointed to as 
contemporaneous with the barn. 

The present owner and tenant of the Salisbury acres is Dr. 
Claudius Van Dusen, whose family has been in possession 
many years, a typical, old-style country doctor, with all the 
best that the word implies; a finely educated man who, now 
that his days of active practice are over, keeps in touch with 
current events as well as the history and legend of the region 
in which he lives. A country doctor, if so inclined, has the best 
of opportunities to gather a store of interesting anecdote and 
history of the neighborhood during his daily rounds through 
the miles he must travel, and Dr. Van Dusen has made large 
use of his opportunities. 

The doctor has many treasures, and among them a curious 
glass bead that was dug up on the place when he was a boy, 
say sixty or more years ago, and had always been looked on as 
an Indian relic until recent years. It is about an inch and a 
half high, and an inch in diameter, some three-quarters of an 
inch of the sides are corrugated; above and below the corru- 

38 



gation is a red similar to the red of pottery, then the central 
portion is covered with a thin layer of opaque white, and on 
this is a much thicker layer of dense blue, the result being that 
only two narrow lines of white show, the corrugation making 
this a white zig-zag or star separating the blue from the red. 

A Rev. Mr. Ford from New York or Brooklyn, when calling 
at the place, saw the bead and stated that it was of Phoenician 
origin and prehistoric, and said or gave the impression that it 
was a silent evidence that the PhcEnicians were here in pre- 
historic times. The reverend gentleman, who appears to be 
something of an Egyptologist, told the doctor that he had 
searched Europe to find and study such a bead, and had at last 
found one or more specimens in the Berlin museum. He fur- 
ther said that the decoration around the hole at either end, 
which is a simple zig-zag, was the symbol of the Egyptian 
kings, and also that, to his knowledge, but one other of these 
beads had been found in this country, and that near the shores 
of Lake Erie. 

Some time later the doctor received from a friend in Wash- 
ington, who had seen the bead, a newspaper clipping concern- 
ing a bead which the friend said was identical, having seen and 
examined both. The clipping stated that a curious bead had 
been found on the bank of the Roanoke River in Virginia, that 
it had been sent to Professor Virchow in Germany, and to an 
equally eminent archaeologist in England, and that they both 
agreed that it was of Phoenician origin, and that there was only 
one other known specimen in existence, that being in the 
Louvre in Paris. 

39 



Mr. S. S. Haldeman in the Smithsonian report for 1877 has 
an article "On a Polychrome Bead from Florida", the illustra- 
tion and description of which seems to tally exactly with that 
of the Leeds bead. He mentions examples which have been 
found in Pennsylvania, Canada and New York, as well as vari- 
ous points in Europe and Egypt. He says: "Mr. Morlot's 
paper is intended to show that the Northmen received these 
beads from the Phoenicians and carried them to America, a 
view which is opposed by Mr. A. W. Franks, F. S. A., of the 
British Museum, who thinks that the Beverly specimen figured 
by Schoolcraft is Venetian of the fifteenth or sixteenth cen- 
tury, a view which is probably correct for all the North Ameri- 
can examples. * * * 

"And yet the manufacture of the star pattern and other 
kinds of beads in glass and enamel, with varicolored spots and 
circles, is of great antiquity. * * * 

"Charles C. Jones, in 'Antiquities of the Southern Indians', 
mentions that De Soto found European beads in possession of 
the natives as early as 1540." 

The general opinion of the unlearned but practical New 
Yorker seems to be that this bead was probably part of the 
stock of some Indian trader, as beads have always been legal 
tender with the natives. At the Museum of Natural History 
in New York this theory holds ; it also agrees with the views 
of Mr. Jack Frost, a noted trader in beads for Indian consump- 
tion, who refused to become excited over the subject, which is 
still a fair field for speculation. 

There is a legend connecting one of the early Salisburys 

40 



with a tragedy that is interesting as showing how much can be 
made of little when the neighbors really take hold and help. 
One version has it that the lord of the manor was so persistent 
in his wooing that the girl ran away to be rid of his unwelcome 
attentions. Another that, being of a violent temperament, he 
so abused a servant that she departed in fear of her life. Any 
way, it was a girl, and she ran away. He, following on horse- 
back, soon caught her, and tying her with his halter, fastened 
the other end to the saddle and started his horse on a run, soon 
dashing the poor girl to death, whereupon he was arrested, 
tried and convicted, but because of his money and position, was 
condemned to be hanged when ninety-nine years old, and to 
always wear a halter around his neck. Many are the ghost 
stories based on this legend. On moonlight nights the horse 
dashes silently down the road, sometimes with the girl on his 
back, sometimes dragging her at his heels, but always is she 
clothed in a shroud; on stormy nights the good folk hear her 
shriek and the horse thunders by as though the storm had 
broken loose afresh. 

Dr. Van Dusen, whose long life has been spent in this ven- 
erable house, gave a correct version of the story in the Catskill 
Recorder for September 14, 1883. The tale had shortly before 
that been revived in a magazine article, and it was to forever 
lay the ghost that the doctor took up his pen. The facts are 
that the girl in question was one whose services had been pur- 
chased from her parents* by William, son of Francis Salisbury, 

* It was the custom in the early days for parents who were unable to sup- 
port their children to sell the services of the minor until he, or she, came 
of age. 

41 



the William for whom the Potuck (1728) farm house was built. 
This girl may have been somewhat headstrong, and becoming 
tired of her position ran away, and proving fractious when 
caught was tied, as the legend tells, as the only practical way 
of leading her back to the paths of industry. After William 
was again in the saddle the horse became frightened, possibly 
at the violence of the maid, and ran away, the rider was 
thrown and, with his foot caught in the stirrup, would have 
himself been dragged to death had the strap not parted. The 
girl of course was killed, but it was so evidently the result of 
an accident that there was no arrest nor trial. The halter which 
the man is said to have kept around his neck to the day of his 
death was in all probability a string which in those days was 
frequently worn to keep off some evil rheumatic, or other 
spirit, it being quite as efficacious as the more modern method 
of carrying a horse chestnut in the pocket. 

While the ghost does not walk in these benighted days of 
education as frequently as of yore, we still are not entirely 
without our share of faith in such matters, for Leeds has had 
its "Woman in Black" even so lately as December, 1906. The 
Catskill Examiner tells how this woman in black nightly 
parades the Green Lake Road, taking particular pains to scare 
the pretty young girls who ventured abroad during the early 
hours of dark — a ghostess of taste, evidently. The school- 
teacher, as became a man of learning, having never seen the 
apparition, started out one fateful night to lay it, but when the 
black skirted figure jumped suddenly at him from the heavy 
shadow of a pine tree our brave pedagogue is said to have 

42 



taken a five-foot picket fence as neatly as the best jumper at 
the horse show; in other words, he stood not on the order of 
his going, but went at once. At last accounts the "Woman in 
Black" had the field to herself. When daylight arrives and the 
heroes of the countryside again come forth there are those 
mean enough to hint that "she" is no lady, claiming to judge 
by her stride and such like tokens, but as accounts generally in- 
dicate that those who have seen her ladyship are apt to be 
headed down the road at a right smart clip, with the ghost a 
close second, the opportunity for studying said stride, etc., does 
not appear to have been taken full advantage of. 



43 



LEEDS TO CATSKILL. 



Dominie Schuneman Facts and Legends, Catskill Mountains, Thomas 
Cole, Reminiscences. 



While the Van Bergens selected as their share the rich 
lands of Coxsackie flats, at least one of them built in old Cats- 
kill: Martin Gerrit Van Bergen, whose house stood just off 
the main street until recent years. That all the world might 
know who and when, the builder cut his initials and date of 
erection in the east wall of his dwelling: "M. G. V. B., 1729, 

July 4." 

And now we come to the most prominent figure of the 
Revolutionary period in the Catskill region. Dominie Johannes 
Schuneman, the name about which more legends and stories 
have clustered than about all the other inhabitants of Greene 
County combined. The parsonage made famous by the good 
man is gone, as is the church building from whose pulpit were 
thundered weekly anathemas against the Tories and all other 
enemies of the country, as well as of the Lord. 

His parents came over about 1710 with the Palatines. Just 

44 



how this son of a staunch Lutheran became a Calvinist is not 
recorded, but so it came about, and, believing that he was 
called of God, he studied for the ministry, spending a year of 
his preparation in Amsterdam, from which he returned to take 
charge of the church in Catskill, shortly thereafter marrying 
the youngest daughter of the rich Martin Van Bergen — he 
forty-six, she twenty-six years of age — and it was the father- 
in-law who built the parsonage, which for so many years was 
a refuge for the weary and heavy laden — 1754- 1793. 

That the dominie was no sentimentalist is amply proven by 
the following entry in his diary: "Attended the funeral of 
Johannes Diedrich at the Kauterskill ; also sold my lame 
mare." His "studeer-kamer" as the Dutch called the pastor's 
study, was a resort for all those needing help or advice. It was 
here those wonderful sermons were written which caused the 
good people to sit up and take notice. But all these precious 
manuscripts, so the story goes, were used by negro serv- 
ants to light the fires in his son's tavern and for the cleaning 
of the pots and pans. 

For many years the dominie's circuit included both Catskill 
and Coxsackie, twelve miles north, while it frequently included 
Katsbaan, ten miles south. In both directions the road passed 
through dense woods, and his gun was always with him on 
these expeditions ; in fact he must have had the appearance, at 
least, of belonging to the church militant, being intensely hated 
by the Tories because of his strong condemnation of their atti- 
tude. His rifle never left his side during the days of the Revo- 
lution, it even going into the pulpit with him, and as he was a 

45 



dead shot and his enemies were acquainted with his proficiency 
he was seldom or never molested. 

Mr. James Wolley, who came over in 1678, says: "As to 
the Dutch language, in which I was but a smatterer, I think it 
lofty, majestic and emphatical", and we read of our good dom- 
inie that "His voice was one of great power and compass. His 
distinct and impressive tones, his natural and vigorous gesticu- 
lation and the magnificent fervent kindliness of his spirit con- 
spired with the eminently evangelical character of his dis- 
courses to render his preaching effective". When such a man 
handled such a language was it any wonder that things hap- 
pened. 

The same writer, Rev. Dr. Henry Ostrander, says further: 
"The Revolutionary troubles called into full exercise Dominie 
Schuneman's intense patriotism, in connection with his heroic 
and self-sacrificing spirit. The district of country in which he 
lived was the theatre of great commotion and horrid cruelty. 
* * * He well knew that he was looked upon by the enemy 
as a prize of more than ordinary value; but nothing daunted 
by this he never withheld any good service in aid of his coun- 
try's interests which it was in his power to render." 

The dominie had a great reputation for talking to the point 
whenever he had anything on his mind, as for instance: The 
way in which the brethren neglected attendance on the weekly 
prayer meeting worried him until he finally, one Sunday morn- 
ing, made the following announcement: "On Saturday after- I 
noon the horses will run on the flats. I will be there, and also 
at the Wednesday evening prayer meeting. I will then see 

46 



which most of my congregation attend." It is said that the 
next race day was not a brilliant success so far as attendance 
went. 

The congregation would occasionally get a little tired of 
being so reminded of its shortcomings, and, after a series 
of particularly hard shake-downs, those whose shortcomings 
had received such warm personal attention appointed a com- 
mittee of one to express their feelings on the subject. The 
dominie listened patiently, and promised to make it all right 
next Sunday. The day proved to be warm, and this son of 
thunder removed his coat before proceeding. Then stretching 
his powerful frame to its full height he opened his mouth and 
announced with a roar: "Well, friends, now you will get it", 
and proceeded to give them a sermon, as compared with which 
those that had gone before paled into insignificance, winding 
up his peroration with : "Now, friends, you have got it." The 
committee went out of business then and there. 

I had the following legend from Mrs. Newkirk, formerly 
Elsie Salisbury, who is eighty-seven years old, blind and con- 
fined to her chair, but who still loves a merry tale; the story 
was current in her youth : On one occasion when the dominie 
was proceeding on horseback to Coxsackie he glanced behind 
to discover a great black dog attached to his horse's tail. His 
rifle was, of course, his companion on this occasion, as at all 
times, but for such attacks as this the good man was armed 
with a better weapon than ever carried powder and ball, for, 
looking the ferocious beast in the face for a full minute he 
thundered out: "If you are from the Lord remain where you 

47 



are; if from the devil, begone!" and instantly the beast van- 
ished into thin air. Those were rough days, when the traveller 
must be prepared to meet the devil himself as well as his 
minions, the Indians and wildcats. 

It seems to me that one of the loudest notes in praise of 
Dominie Schuneman is the absolute silence of the "Ecclesi- 
astical Records of the State of New York" in regard to him. It 
is quite evident that he was not controversial as to points of 
doctrine. So far as I can find his name is not once mentioned 
in the volumes covering the years of his reign. 

The death of Martin Van Bergen left the dominie a rich 
man, and about the time he retired from active service he built 
a house on that portion of his estate which lay near the Vosen 
Kill in what is now known as Jefferson, the house facing on the 
King's Highway, as it is still called. Here he died in 1794, and 
in a field across the road were he and his wife buried. 

All this time we have been in sight of the mountains, and 
while looking at them it is of passing interest to note the fol- 
lowing coincidence: In "A Prospective View of the Battle 
Fought Near Lake George", 8th of September, 1755, a map 
of the Hudson River gives our Catskill Mountains as Coats 
Kill Mountains. One of the popular governors of the prov- 
ince was Richard Coote, Earl of Bellomont, who died in New 
York in 1700. There is not much difference between Coat and 
Coote, particularly when we recall the free and easy ways of 
spelling in those times, when even brothers signing the same 
document spelled the family name differently. The writer has 
gone no deeper into this subject and has asked no questions of 

48 



those learned in such matters, and gives the coincidence with- 
out assuming any responsibility for conclusions that may be 
drawn therefrom. 

From the high bluff at Jefferson, just before the road de- 
scends the hill into Catskill, one gets the view made famous 
by Thomas Cole in his painting entitled "Youth", the second 
in "The Voyage of Life" series. Down in the vale beneath 
winds the creek while a beautiful rolling country leads up to 
the mountains. It is a view to give the stranger pause, even if 
he is not acquainted with its interesting history. Another 
painting by Thomas Cole of this same scene hangs in the Met- 
ropolitan Museum, New York. 

The house of Thomas Cole stands on an eminence that en- 
ables it to overlook all the country toward the west, with the 
mountains bordering the further edge of the horizon. It is 
now occupied by a son of the artist, Theodore A., who is a 
typical old-time gentleman. He kindly showed the room in 
which are hung a number of his father's paintings and gave 
the traveller the freedom of the place. To be sure this may 
have been due largely to the fact that I was introduced by 
Mr. Franklin Salisbury, but it was all done so graciously as 
to make one feel at home without giving the matter thought. 

The building is something over one hundred years old, is 
very attractive, with a high veranda whose slender pillars add 
much to the charm. The whole is painted white and buff and, 
surrounded by billows of flowers and vines, has a light, graceful 
effect quite unusual for the date of its birth, when the people 
built for solidity rather than grace. The camera caught a 

49 



glimpse of the house through the foliage, with tall hollyhocks 
on the one hand and a low bunch of flaming crimson on the 
other ; it was a leaf out of an old fashioned garden scene which 
the camera was wholly unable to duplicate. The old studio, 
now a woodshed and tool house, is picturesque without an 
effort. 

The local people have such a kindly feeling toward the 
name of Cole that when misfortune overtook the house certain 
of the neighbors purchased the place and presented it to the 
daughters of the family. 

We have come down from Leeds, through Jefferson to Cats- 
kill, and now we are going back the same way as we cross the 
Leeds bridge before starting south on the old road to Kauters- 
kill. There is much to be seen in and around Jefferson, but 
before starting back the writer feels like saying what he thinks 
of a place that has wasted such opportunities as has Catskill. 

Thanks to its short-sighted policy Catskill is merely a place 
to sleep if one must stop at all. It seems never to have dawned 
on any one that the preservation of its historic homes and their 
proper exploitation could have a cash significance, and so, one 
by one, those buildings which linked the present-day village 
to the past have been demolished to make way for factory or 
brickyard, until to-day the place holds too little to attract the 
traveller, who, instead of stopping for a day or more, now goes 
by with his eyes toward the mountains, and no thought or 
knowledge of the old Stone Jug and the interesting Madam 
Jane Dies with her eccentric John, of whose prudence his 
father-in-law had no opinion, or the other worthies who lived 

50 



so long ago that time has thrown a glamor over their doings 
that makes one listen to the end of the tale. Possibly Catskill 
cares naught for the tourist or his money : then she has gone 
about it just right. 

The following scraps are the result of an interview with 
Henry O. Limbrick of Catskill, who is probably the last of the 
old-time stage drivers left in these parts. The material is given 
practically as it came from the old man's lips : — 

"Remember an old man, Thompson, who carried the 
mail to Cairo three times a week. John Stoutenberg, my- 
self, Tarbox and two brothers drove post, four horse 
coaches for Beache's Pine Orchard House, now Beache's 
Mountain House. Was in Jefferson Marrifield's tavern 
when Teunis Van Vechten blew his arm off on 4th of July. 

"Drove from Kentucky via Buffalo, came to Catskill 
Landing, at that time only a small island, called Wana- 
tonka. Mr. Ira I. Day built the long dock connecting the 
island with the main shore. 

"The cattle from west were killed for New York market 
at Troy and Catskill and shipped on sloops and schooners 
at that time. Remember a few Indians who were left here. 
A man, a teamster, used to team it from Ithaca to Catskill, 
requiring three weeks for the trip. He said some young 
fellow from New Jersey came to Catskill and married a 
squaw ; took her home and his folks misused her. She came 
back with her child, and the tribe over on the hill (west side) 
would not receive her, so in despair went over to the brink 
of the hill and threw herself and child from the top ; as she 
went over called out in English, *Me hop-o-nose'. 

"Garrett Person (Pairsie in Dutch) carried on fishing. 
Used to sell one thousand shad for sixpence. Dutch used 
to despise the Yankees, who came from Massachusetts, and 
thought they had no business to come across the river to 
settle. They could not bear their red hair and would not 
have their money in bank, nor the young folks keep com- 
pany with their young people. 

51 



"Lafayette I saw go through Catskill. Everything was 
decorated. The Catskill wooden bridge was a curiosity, 
built in 1801, and people came from all parts along the river 
to see it, it was so great a sight. The road from river 
passed along by the Old Stone Jug, then on to the Abeel 
House (now where armory stands). Then on passing the 
old Bogardus House back from Smith's Hotel, then on to 
Meiggs House, then on as now. All dissensions or quar- 
rels were settled in families at the supper tables. Appollos 
Cooke's house was built for a hotel. Botsford's was the 
most noted hotel in Catskill in earlier years (and later in 
the forties). William Salisbury kept the 'Bull's Head' 
Hotel at foot of Jefferson Hill, formerly kept by a man 
Gleason, who used to have a beautiful garden on the island 
(now nearly all rocks), and where the concrete bridge is 
now, igo6, crossing. Shoemakers in my boyhood used to 
go from house to house making and repairing boots and 
shoes. Those were the days boys were bound out until 
they were twenty-one years of age. The old Dutch people 
would not take a note from a neighbor; they said if his 
word was good for nothing his note was. Used to buy the 
negroes from one another and they were good to them. 

"General training took place once a year at Catskill. 
Tobias Wynkoop commanded and was appointed by Wash- 
ington justice of the peace. Said in the olden days he used 
to drive four-horse stage, passengers and mail from Albany 
to Catskill, Catskill to Esopus, from Esopus back from the 
river on a road to Newburgh; from Newburgh road went 
to Turners (now on Erie road). It was stage route in my 
time from Albany to Catskill, from Catskill to Esopus, from 
Esopus back from river to Turners, from there to Nyack. 
Below that I do not know, as I only know from the old post 
road at Turners north to Albany." 



52 



CATSKILL TO ASBURY. 



Van Vechten Notes, Aaron Burr, Austin's Glen, Caves, Leeds Bridge, 
Kauterskill, A Tory Nest. 



We have mentioned the view of the mountains from the 
edge of the Jefferson bank that Thomas Cole used in one of 
his pictures. If on our way back we take the road under this 
hill, instead of over it, as the trolley flies, we will in due time 
come to the Van Vechten house and mill. The road twists and 
turns, as country roads which try to keep on the level will 
when there are hills and ravines to be circumvented. There 
are chestnuts to be gathered if the season is right, and a spring 
of water to entice the thirsty, but at the end of it stands one of 
the typical one-story and attic stone houses bearing in large 
iron letters the date 1690. This was built by Divide Teunise 
Van Vechten and rebuilt by his nephew Teunis in 1750, who 
made it longer and higher, and as he finished it the house stands 
to-day. 

Like most of the old houses, this one has seen its stirring 
moments. One of these, which had a rather more satisfactory 

53 



outcome than most of such, occurred during Vaughan's raid 
up the river when Kingston was burned. This house was at- 
tacked by Tories and Indians, who found the old mother sitting 
on a chair where, hidden beneath her ample skirts, was the 
family silver. The raiders were after her son Jacob, who had 
hidden in the garret behind the chimney. When they asked the 
old lady where he was she responded that he had "gone above", 
telling the literal truth, but they, taking her remark to mean 
that he had gone to Albany, in which direction the entire coun- 
try was pouring men for the battle with Burgoyne, left the 
house without making a search. 

Peter Van Vechten, Jr., who has been writing a series of 
interesting articles on "The Good Old Days of Long Ago" for 
the Catskill Examiner, tells how the red brick came which 
adorn the gable ends of the house. It seems that when Peter 
was a small boy a whirlwind came down, like a wolf on the 
fold, and took the roof along with it. It was an exciting mo- 
ment that evidently made a deep impression on the boy's mind ; 
the repairs were made with brick. Now, having disposed of 
this important matter, we will cross the railroad track to the 
mill, the one now standing having been built in 1830, and being 
the third to bear the Van Vechten name. It seems that John, 
one of the builders, drove to Montreal in the Winter of 1829 
in order to secure the bolting cloth necessary for the new mill, 
that being the nearest place at which it could be obtained. 
The first mill on Catskill Creek was built about 1765. Before 
this the Van Vechtens had a mill on the Hans Vosen Kill on 
the other side of the flats. 

54 



Standing near the gate of the Van Vechten place is a stone 
which bears the following inscription: "i8th & igth Century 
Fording Place Here. Old King's Road. New York to Canada 
on Indian Trail." Here it was that the red men forded the 
Catskill Creek, and here the white men found the ford acces- 
sible for their teams. There is many a road in this country 
which was once an Indian trail. Both ends of the most in- 
teresting and varied street in the world, Broadway on Man- 
hattan Island, follow closely the track originally broken by the 
moccasin of the aborigines. 

The present road to the high ground of Jefferson follows 
quite closely the old King's Road, crossing the Susquehanna 
turnpike in the centre of the village. A little beyond stands 
the Schuneman house, built by the dominie during the last 
years of his life, and now the property of Mr. Franklin Salis- 
bury, who has the blood of pretty much all the old families in 
his veins, and a room full of treasures consisting of paintings 
by Cole and Church, Schuneman china, old books and papers, 
etc., etc., enough to stock a small museum. 

Doctor Orcutt, who died about 1875, at the age of seventy- 
four, was a frequent visitor in the Salisbury family. He was 
full of reminiscences of the early days, among them one con- 
cerning Aaron Burr, with whom the doctor was acquainted 
in his youth. Burr visited in Jefferson, and was in the habit of 
spending a portion of each day in a certain chestnut woods, 
where, selecting a particularly large tree to which to address 
his remarks, he would proceed to declaim some speech with 
which he was preparing to startle his fellow-legislators, mak- 

55 



ing all the gesticulations that he would make before an audi- 
ence, like Demosthenes on the seashore, preparing for more 
appreciative hearers, and putting forth all his powers of ora- 
tory. How the leaves must have clapped their hands for very 
joy. 

In former times herds of cattle and sheep were driven down 
from the north and west for the New York market, and Jef- 
ferson was then a busy place, for here the animals were 
slaughtered and shipped down the river in sloops. In those 
days the father of Frank Salisbury kept the Bull's Head tavern, 
and for his sign had a bull's head painted by Thomas Cole him- 
self. The hotel is gone, and the droves of cattle are no more. 
The trolley goes roaring all the day long, but beyond that there 
is little to break the quiet of the countryside. 

Here was the renbaan, or race grounds, where those races 
were run which so depleted Dominie Schuneman's flock. The 
old Dutchmen loved good horses, even some of the dominies 
were noted for a love of horseflesh and a strong dislike to tak- 
ing anybody's dust. 

There is a low frame house tucked away across the fields 
that once held a man of great local renown, Henry Oothoudt, 
a member of the convention at which the first constitution of 
the state of New York was framed, one of the commissioners 
of forfeited estates, and Senator from Albany County in the 
days before Greene County ever was. 

Instead of returning through Leeds by the beaten track we 
will side-step to Austin's Glen, which furnishes a mile of at- 
tractive glimpses of tumbling water and rock ledges. The 

56 



glen is named after the man who once used the water-power 
for the making of paper. As we entered its beautiful precincts 
a spring which bubbles from the bank offered a cup of cold 
water which was not refused; the overflow from this glides 
down a wooden trough so long in place that it is now a moss- 
grown bit of nature. The limestone ledges of this region are, 
like the walk of that good man in the New Gospel of Peace, 
slantindicular, the result being an occasional ledge in the bed 
of the creek which forms a natural dam that in times of flood 
must make some very beautiful falls. 

Mr. Salisbury accompanied me on this part of the pilgrim- 
age, and as we passed along pointed out two holes in the rock 
which, as a boy, he was wont to explore. These lead to caves 
some hundreds of feet in length, at times widening into roomy 
chambers, and eventually opening in the top of the cliff. In 
the "Dutch Dominie of the Catskills" we read of such a cave 
near the home of Martin Schuyler, which was used by his 
family in its escape from the Indians. 

The Catskill Packet for August 6, 1792, has this to say for 
the Leeds bridge: "On Thursday, the 26th ult., was completed 
the erecting a bridge over Catskill Creek, about five miles 
from this landing, on the great road to the back settlements. 
This bridge for magnitude and elegance of structure is inferior 
to none in the state." It has since then been surpassed in mag- 
nitude by more modern structures, but it can at least lay 
claim to being the most picturesque in the state. The graceful 
pencil of Harry Fenn once transferred it to the pages of Har- 
pers' Magazine, with one of those old-time droves of sheep on 

57 



their way to Jefferson and mutton. It has been in use one hun- 
dred and fourteen years, and looks good for as many more. 

No sooner has our picturesque old friend carried us across 
the creek than we immediately turn south toward Kauterskill 
by a road which is probably over two hundred years old. Here 
was located Dominie Schuneman's old church, and across the 
swale, toward the east, the parsonage. Not so much as a stone 
wall remains to mark the site of the church, and as for the poor 
parsonage, as unattractive a modern frame house stands in its 
shoes as could well be constructed. 

About the only relic of the past hereabouts are the everlast- 
ing hills, though there is still preserved in the Mower house, 
which stands on the site of the old hotel, a board some seven 
feet long, on which is painted in black, red and ochre the whole 
scene: church, hotel and outhouses, Martin Van Bergen and 
his ample vrouw, Indians, prancing horses and pretty much 
everything that could be worked into a country panorama with, 
of course, the hills in the background. This board once 
adorned the fireplace in the hotel. 

About 1 761 a settler named Planck built a small stone house 
some distance west of this road ; it was in a secluded little val- 
ley in a forest clearing. Planck must have been a good patriot 
for his house appears to have been an object of attack by In- 
dian and Tory alike, and wars and rumors of wars frequently 
sent the women and children to the Van Bergen house, while 
the men lay out in the woods all night, gun in hand, with in- 
tent to surprise the surprisers. Legend has not been careful to 
preserve particulars, but those of us who as boys reveled in 

58 



the delights to be found in those simple nature studies pub- 
lished by the good Mr. Beadle, which were within reach of all 
who were possessed of a dime, can readily imagine shadowy 
forms slipping from tree to tree, the war whoop and the death 
cry as the unerring rifle of the forest ranger sent one of the red 
devils to the happy hunting grounds, etc., etc. 

It is civilized and dull enough these days, for this stretch 
of road, some two miles and a half from Catskill to Kauters- 
kill Creeks, contains not a single relic of those old days, in 
spite of the fact that it was once the centre of things. The 
landscape is diverting enough, to be sure, but one needs his 
imagination with him if he must hark back to the good old 
days of raid and foray. About half a mile toward the east, 
where the Kauterskill runs into the Catskill, stood the fort 
where the river Indians made their first stand against the fierce 
Mohawks, and from which they retreated to an island in the 
Hudson. Being at the junction of these two streams I am re- 
minded that while cat means just a plain, ordinary cat, kauter 
means a tomcat. This was news to me ; possibly some one 
else is equally ignorant. 

A rainy spell which preceded my advent to these regions 
did much for the waterfalls and little brooks. The falls of the 
Kauterskill were exceptionally fine. The rock down which the 
water foams makes a natural dam which has been taken advan- 
tage of for the grinding of grist and sawing of logs. The mill 
itself is not much to look at, but the old covered bridge, which 
crosses just at the head of the tumbling water, tops a most 
attractive picture. 

59 



The road I am following continues up stream along its 
south bank, past the Salomon Du Bois house of 1751, the road 
here following the trail by which the Indians made their way 
up the Kauterskill and over the mountains to the Schoharie 
Kill. We will follow on, along the Palenville Road, a bit out 
of our way, to where stands the old Abeel house. The road 
crosses the creek again on a high stone arch, and we look down 
for a moment on the old Webber place, haunt of the Tory. 

David Abeel, himself a jealous Whig, lived in an exposed 
position near the mountains, and surrounded by a number of 
Tory neighbors: Webbers, Fieros, Rowes and others. Dur- 
ing Brandt's raid the house was attacked by Indians, and 
Tories disguised as Indians, and its master was captured and 
carried into captivity, first to Fort Niagara, and then to Mont- 
real, from whence he eventually escaped. His trials and hard- 
ships during this period are dreadful to dwell upon. The old 
house still stands, though shorn of all such excrescences as 
porches et al. What was once the front door now opens into 
space, and the slave quarters below furnish the main en- 
trance, unless one would follow the family custom and use the 
kitchen door. The building appears to be in good condition, 
but the inhabitants thereof are not much given to outer adorn- 
ment, leaving the picturesque features of the place to the 
chickens and the litter. 

Another house of the olden time which still remains to these 
parts is the Fiero place, back toward Catskill, which formerly 
stood on the King's Highway, but just here the ancient way 
has been lost in the Palenville Road, down which the old Tory 

60 



stronghold gazes with all the frankness of innocence in its 
white paint. The passer-by of to-day would never suspect that 
back of those closed blinds used to gather assemblies who sat 
in absolute darkness while scheming for their king, who they 
firmly believed was a much injured individual and entitled to 
their most loyal support. 

The King's Highway now climbs a stiff little hill, near 
whose top is a fairy waterfall that dances down over the lime- 
stone ledge in a way to make one stop and smile in sympathy 
with the gay time the waters are having. It flashes and gur- 
gles such an abandon of invitation that there was nothing to 
do but climb the fence, slip off my pack and sit down under 
the shelter of the ledge to discuss certain sandwiches which 
had come thus far with the benevolent purpose of helping the 
traveller on his way. The lullaby of the falling water and the 
beautiful valley below were a great enticement to linger, but 
Saugerties was eight miles away, it was nearly 3 o'clock, and 
October days are all too brief. ^^ 

Now we enter on quite a different sort of country from that 
which has gone before, rocky and wild, with houses few and 
far between, and of a rather primitive order when they do oc- 
cur — a bit of back-woods region. If only the haze could have 
lifted, the views of the mountains would have been reward 
enough; but, as it was, near-by objects were quite satisfying. 
This stretch impresses one as having seen little change during 
the past hundred years. There are no wildcats or large game, 
but an occasional partridge whirred off into the woods when 
my footfall broke in on his sweet dream of peace. Those singu- 

61 



lar vertical limestone ledges which are one of the curiosities 
of this country were frequent; in one case the ledge had in 
some prehistoric time been broken down at regular intervals, 
leaving a series of stone sentinels standing in a straight line 
across the fields. Between two of these the road passed — great 
square blocks that look as though they were the rough gate 
posts of some giant stronghold. 

This must be a great wild flower emporium during the 
earlier months of the year 

"Where wastes that bear no harvest yield their bloom, 
Rude crofts of flowering nettle, bents of yellow broom. 
The very reeds and sedges of the fen 
Open their hearts and blossom to the sky! 
The wild thyme on the mountain's knees 
Unrolls its purple market to the bees! 

Unharvested of men 
The Traveller's Joy can only smile and die!" 

And so we come to Asbury, a crossroads that has little sig- 
nificance for this traveller. In the days of the stage coach the 
place was known as Trumpbour's Corners. This King's Road 
over which we have been footing it was not always thus, for it 
was once the "ffoot-path leading to Albany".* In June, 1703, 
an act was passed for laying out public highways which di- 
rected that a road be laid out between the New Jersey state 
line and Albany. This ran through Goshen, Shawangunk, 
New Paltz, Rosendale, Kingston, Fox Hall, Pine Bush, to the 
fording place across the Esopus at the mouth of the Saw Kill, 

• The ••ff" which we see in many of the old documents, as "ffoot", 
"fferry", "ffrench", etc., is said to be nothing more nor less than a cap- 
ital " F " of peculiar form. 

62 



thence along the western side of Esopus Creek and on north 
to Albany. When first laid out this was known as the Queen's 
Highway. 



63 



WEST CAMP TO KINGSTON. 



Pastor Kocherthal, Katsbaan, John Jacob Astor, Saugerties, Devil's 
Cave, Plattekill Creek. 



Keeping south to Katsbaan we miss a visit to West Camp. 
There are a few old houses here, but none of historic interest, 
although the early history of the place itself is more than in- 
teresting, for this was the west camp of the Palatines who 
came over in 1710. The greater number settled on the east 
side of the river, but their good pastor, Kocherthal, made his 
headquarters here, and this seems to have been the more im- 
portant station. The father of Dominie Schuneman was one 
of this band of immigrants. Two or three hundred years ago 
the patriarchal rulers of Europe paid great attention to the road 
by which their subjects should travel to Paradise, and when 
any group of those subjects started cross-lots on a route of 
their own the good father was apt to go after them with a 
sharp stick. Thus the inhabitants of the Palatinate of Ger- 
many suffered much inconvenience because of their unwilling- 
ness to be converted in an orthodox manner, and finding the 



64 



stake an uncomfortable method of exit, large bodies of them 
left the country without waiting for government assistance. 
Many of these found their way to England, where their 
straightened circumstances attracted much sympathy. Queen 
Anne made arrangements to send numbers of them to this 
country, where they bound themselves to work a certain length 
of time in the making of naval stores to pay for their trans- 
portation and keep. Thus it happened that West Camp was 
established. 

Here is the grave of Joshua Kocherthal. It was his vig- 
orous pleading that had much to do in influencing Queen Anne 
and her councillors to help his poor flock to the shores of the 
Hudson, and it was his counsel and help that kept the little 
colony together and helped it over the rough places, of which 
there were many. He was a very Moses for this wilderness 
band. 

The tablet over Kocherthal's grave in the vestibule of the 
West Camp church is in Dutch. The following quaint transla- 
tion is taken from Mr. Brink's book: — 

"Know, traveller, under this stone rests, beside his 
Sibylla Charlotte, a real traveller, of the High Dutch in 
North America, their Joshua and a pure Lutheran preacher 
of the same on the east and west side of the Hudson River. 
His first arrival was with Lord Lovelace in 1709, the first 
of January. His second with Colonel Hunter, in 1710, the 
fourteenth of June. The journey of his soul to heaven on 
St. John's Day, 1719, interrupted his return to England. 
Do you wish to know more? Seek in Melancthon's Father- 
land who was Kocherthal, who Harschias, who Winchen- 
bach." 

65 



This region, between Catskill and Kingston, appears to 
have been a sort of neutral ground during the days when the 
Indian was causing anxiety. In fact the only battle here- 
abouts that there seems to be even legendary record of was an 
exclusive Indian affair which occurred shortly before Hud- 
son ascended the river, almost three hundred years ago, when 
the Mohawks swooped down on the river Indians and, after 
driving them from their stockade at the fork of the Catskill 
and Kauterskill, finally caught them in a ravine near the pres- 
ent Smith's Landing and subdued them after the usual hearty 
Indian fashion. 

While doing all this talking of Palatines and Indians we 
have been jogging along to Katsbaan,* and having arrived 
there learn from Mr. Brink's History of Saugerties, in which 
town this village is located, that in the first entry made in 
the church records of Katsbaan by Dominie Mancius, a Ger- 
man, the name is spelled Kaatsbaan, which is the German word 
for a tennis court, and the lay of the land here might suggest 
such a name. Baan is Dutch for haunt, resort, course or range, 
and as the region was infested with wildcats the name may 
have come from Kats Baan, meaning the haunt of the wildcat. 
The first church here was erected in 1732, but it has been 
so much and so thoroughly improved that there is little enough 
of the old building left ; only a bit of the rear wall, in fact. In 
1780 the church received as its second pastor the Rev. Lam- 
burtus De Ronde of New York. The reverend gentleman had 

* If one would pronounce the name as do those to the manor born, he 
must say " Kautzbn ". 

66 



been so pronounced in his criticism of the British that they 
sent him up the river to be rid of him. Then there was Dom- 
inie Doll, another Revolutionary patriot, who sometimes sup- 
plied the pulpit, as did also the Rev. Johannes Schuneman. 
These were the days when the activity of Brant with his Tories 
and Indians along the Catskills kept the whole community 
excited. But the uncompromisingly patriotic stand of the 
Dutch dominies resulted in making this region one of the fore- 
most in patriotism. 

The Dutch dominie occupied a unique position in these 
rural parts. He not only ministered to the spiritual needs of 
the community, but was as well its lawgiver and law enforcer. 
There were few if any lawyers, judges or courthouses. It was 
no uncommon thing for the church to be turned into a temple 
of justice on week days with the dominie for judge and his 
deacons for jurors, and the sentences they passed were exe- 
cuted; for the convicted prisoners there were stocks and a 
whipping post in front of the church door. New England by 
no means had a monopoly of the Blue Laws, for in these west- 
ern wilds no one could ride on Sunday but to church, except 
"It shall be lawful for the Post, or any other person in his 
Majesty's service; or to bring a Physitian or Mydwife". The 
penalty for Sabbath breaking was three hours in the stocks, 
unless one had money with which to pay a fine, but money was 
not very ready in those days. 

A knoll in the Katsbaan churchyard is said to be the best 
spot in the neighborhood from which to secure a view of the 
mountains, but the weather man did me a very unfriendly turn 

67 



during these late October days, and I was compelled to take 
my mountains largely on faith. 

During the Revolution this was a great trade centre, "the 
location of a widely known country store, so widely known, 
in fact, that Burgoyne had selected Katsbaan as the site of one 
of his three camps between Albany and Kingston", the others 
being Rack's Hackey (Coxsackie) and Katskill (Leeds), but, 
as we all know, Burgoyne's plans did not work out. This was 
the store of Cornelius Persen (torn down in 1900), who, when 
the British held New York, hauled his merchandise from 
Philadelphia by the inland route. Here patriotic meetings 
were held during the war, and here soldiers were recruited 
for Saratoga — soldiers that helped to disarrange the British 
designs on Katsbaan. In later days the great fur trader of the 
country, John Jacob Astor, had his headquarters in the old 
store, where the trappers and hunters of the Catskills could 
barter furs for articles of more immediate use to them. Astor 
had his store on Broadway, New York. It is said that, in order 
to save expense, he was in the habit of carrying his bundles of 
furs on his back between the dock and his store. As a result 
of his willingness to work and ability to see a little further into 
a millstone than most men, his descendants of to-day do not 
find it necessary to make pack mules of themselves. 

Persen's house still stands, while just across the highway 
from it runs one of those interesting limestone ledges — this 
one some twelve to fifteen feet high, and here dwelt in Persen's 
day, under the shelving rock at the southern end, an Indian 
whose Dutch nickname meant Night John. The white man 

68 



was of a kindly disposition and had on various occasions be- 
friended his red brother, and when Brant raided the region in 
1780 this friendly Indian showed appreciation by giving Per- 
sen such timely warning that he was not only able to escape, 
but also had time to save his goods. The crack in the rock 
which served this Indian as chimney still shows the effects of 
fire. 

Katsbaan is sadly lacking in one important particular, for, so 

« 
far as this traveller knows, there is not a single Washington 

tradition in connection with any building within its precincts. 

However, the omnipresent Aaron Burr was a frequent guest 

at the hotel of Johannes Myer, then a noted hostelry on the 

King's Road. No doubt others quite as well known stopped 

as often, but Burr was one of the genial sort that everyone re- 

mem.bered. 

Late October days turn in early, as I was of a sudden re- 
minded when trying to take a last picture in Katsbaan — this 
time it was the stone track for heavy teaming which crosses 
the King's Road on its way from Maiden to the west. The 
thick slabs of stone are sometimes rutted inches deep by the 
continual grinding" of the wheels of commerce. The man who 
originated this good-roads movement deserves a monument. 
Much the same scheme was tried a few years ago on Warren 
Street, New York, where it starts up to Broadway, only here 
a broad iron way was laid for the wheels, the centre being left 
of Belgian blocks in which the horses could grip, but for some 
reason the plan did not work. 

The two miles or so into Saugerties was accomplished in 

69 



the gloaming. If the lover of comfort would really appreciate 
his hearthstone he should try trudging an unknown country 
road in the dark of a chill Autumn evening. The cheer of a 
bright, comfortable interior is then brought home with re- 
doubled force as one catches an occasional glimpse of entice- 
ment before the curtain is drawn. 

Even he who is not in all things too superstitious can hardly 
help peering curiously into the dark places as he pushes 
through the shades of night along a strange and quiet country 
road. I am not much given to seeing things at night, but be- 
tween certain lines of reading indulged in while preparing for 
this trip and certain conversations held along the way that 
have drifted into the beliefs of a hundred years ago, and wind- 
ing up with stories of ghostly doings that were current facts 
when the narrators were young, I must admit that my pulse 
was quickened once or twice at some strange rustle in the 
nearby bushes, but no truly adventure came my way. 

The negro slaves of the forefathers were responsible for a 
large part of this feeling and superstition. They endowed 
each spooky spot with an apparition of its own, and these were 
enlarged on during the long Winter evenings around the fire- 
side, where young and old were gathered, until the children 
grew up saturated with stories of hobgoblins and wood sprites, 
so that the very sighing of the wind in the trees would send a 
shudder over the bravest, should he be descending some deep 
file in the forest, while a stray moonbeam has sent many a lone 
rider galloping for the open. 

Hov\^ever, with nothing to do but walk and look for ghosts 

70 



two miles is not much to dwell upon, and it was not long be- 
fore I raised the lights of Saugerties and was entering the 
portals of the Exchange Hotel, whose base-burner heated of- 
fice is a thing to remember. 

Saugerties: "Little-sawyer". Some time before 1663 a 
sawmill was built at the mouth of the Saw Kill, thus giving 
name to the creek, the village and the town. No one knows 
who he was or whence he came; he was known as the "old 
sawyer", and as such we will let him rest. In due time one 
Barent Burhaus was the miller. He died about 1740, leaving a 
son William, whose daughter married John Brink, Jr., and her 
son, Andrew Brink, was captain of Fulton's Clermont on hei 
first successful trip up the river in August, 1807. 

The old mill at the mouth of the creek has long since gone, 
but a bit higher up, and close to the River Road, stands the 
Terwilliger mill, itself older than the Revolution. The mill- 
pond on the western side of the road is fringed with swamp 
willows and maples, and backed by a glorious view of the 
Catskills, while on the other hand is a deep little ravine that 
makes necessary but a short dam, and beyond this as pictur- 
esque an old grist mill as one could ask. The march of im- 
provement has stopped at the iron bridge by which the high- 
way spans the creek, for down here, perched on the rocks, and 
half hidden among the trees, is a picture-making epoch such 
as one seldom sees, a long wooden sluice, spurting little cata- 
racts by the way, conducts the waters to an overshot wheel 
such as must have ground the corn of the first settlers, while 
down below, the waters dance for very joy. 

71 



There are several interesting old houses in Saugerties, but 
beyond a few dry details I have not been able to glean much. 
As we come down the road from the old mill we find at the 
corner of Main Street the Egbert Schoonmaker homestead, 
1762 and 1780, still in the family. This is the man who built 
our picturesque old Terwilliger mill, an elder in the Dutch 
church to whose efforts were largely due the very life of the 
church here which, with no pastor to guide it, was plunged in 
an ecclesiastical struggle that all but ended in disaster. 

Over on the brow of the river with a far-reaching view of 
water and distant shore, stands the Myndert Mynderse house, 
1743, which bears a tablet in its front indicating that it was 
erected by two brothers Mynderse, as there are four sets of 
initials for the men and their wives. A filled-in doorway tends 
to confirm the impression that it was originally a two-family 
house, as our modern real estate man would put it. 

Down under the hill on the bank of the Esopus are the 
crumbling ruins of the Post home. It is believed that the 
original name of this family was Lazier, but certain of its 
members in by-gone times were post riders, and this is said 
to account for the present name. 

The dwelling place of Saugerties's first medicine man. Dr. 
Christopher Kirsted, who came here in 1773, is still standing. 
He was the only physician the town knew for many years. 
The house stands well back from the main street, a monument 
to the good doctor's eye for proportion. 

As an inducement to leave this pleasant village of Sauger- 
ties the map provides a road skirting the western bank of the 

72 



Esopus, and suggesting pleasurable landscape for the delecta- 
tion of the traveller. It seemed hardly more than a step from 
town to country, and if one refuses to take the chances which 
were so fatal to Lot's wife he can readily imagine himself in 
some vast wilderness, for, beyond a boat or bath house at the 
water's edge, not a house is in sight, and hardly a cultivated 
field. The creek is flanked on either hand by low hills, while 
the road creeps up and down the face of its steep western 
bank, finding lodgm.ent among the trees or on such little 
ledges as hold forth a helping hand. All is woods and water, 
with the cawing of an occasional crow to intensify the quiet. 

As time goes on our v/ay descends to lower levels, leaves 
the creek to its encircling hills and becomes a mere cart track 
bordering somebody's pasture lot without even the formality 
of an intervening fence. 

Soon a pass in the hill offers an opportunity to climb out 
of the valley of our placid Esopus, and now the traveller is 
offered a delightful view of the mountains. Then comes a 
wire fence stretched across the way to inconvenience the cat- 
tle. Just here, if one is in the mood for exploration, a short 
walk over the knoll toward the south will discover Roaring or 
Devil's Cave, whereby a certain small brook known as Muddah 
Kill tunnels the hill, and in times of high water goes roaring 
all the day long. 

Our inconsequential road soon comes to the railroad track, 
and offers a second wire fence to be climbed, after which comes 
the farmyard, and then we are on the King's Highway once 
more. One attempting this path from the other way could 

73 



easily miss it, as to all apparent intents and purposes it is a 
farm lane to the barnyard. 

The broad table land upon which we are now standing af- 
fords some grand views of the Catskills, both the Mountain 
House and that known as the Kauterskill are in full view, but 
he whose face is set toward the south must turn his back on 
all this grandeur, and, unless he be a schoolteacher with eyes 
in the back of his head, content himself with the lesser hills, 
except as an occasional turn in the road gives an opportunity 
to Bellamyize a bit. 

Soon comes the village of Mount Marion, which, safely 
passed, leads on to the Plattekill and its old covered bridge, 
and here we will digress a moment for the sake of the oldest 
inhabitant. The first authenticated record of a settler is that 
of Cornelius Lambertsen Brink, the great, great, great, great- 
grandfather of the present generation of Brink, who in 1688 
acquired land where the Plattekill joined the Esopus, and here 
he built his house which, unfortunately, has been altered out 
of countenance by its present iconoclastic owner. This Brink 
was one of those captured at Wiltwyck by the Indians in 1663, 
and held in captivity for some three months before being res- 
cued. 



74 



KINGSTON. 



Thomas Chambers, Esopus Indian Wars, Hermanus Blom, The 
Provincial Congress, Council of Safety, Legislature. 



It is about six miles into Kingston, but it will not take as 
long to reach there on paper as it did on foot. I pre-empted 
somebody's stone wall for a lunch table and dawdled along the 
way to no very good purpose, for either there was something 
the matter with me or with the landscape. We did not agree 
one with the other, and there is little to be said of it. To be 
sure, it was an inviting bit around the mouth of the Saw Kill, 
not the Sawkill of Saugerties, the road leading west among the 
hills looking as though it should be followed up. It was at the 
mouth of this same Saw Kill that the old King's Road forded 
the Esopus. 

Kingston is called the birthplace of constitutional govern- 
ment in the state. It was here that the first state constitution 
was adopted and the state government organized in 1777. 

It might be well, however, to go back a bit and start at the 
beginning, if we can find it, for there is some dispute as to just 

75 



when was the beginning. Some say 1614, but Mr. B. M. 
Brink says this is rushing things at too fast a pace. His idea 
is that the claim that a small redoubt was built at the mouth of 
Rondout Creek in 1614 is based on a misunderstanding of the 
statement made by the Dutch commissioners when disput- 
ing the English seizure of the New Netherlands in 1668, when 
they said that for fifty years the Dutch had owned the forts at 
Albany and Sopus. There was a fort at the latter place when 
the statement was made, and he thinks that what they really 
meant was that they had controlled the country for that length 
of time, as the fort at Albany was fifty years old. Those who 
argue for 1614 point to the same document and are equally 
positive that their view of the situation is the correct one. And 
there you are. 

Now we shall have to start again, this time with Thomas 
Chambers. He was a fact that no one disputes. An English- 
man by birth and a carpenter by trade, he appears to have first 
squatted on the Van Rensselaer domain, but his landlord not 
being to his liking he again migrated, this time down the river 
to Esopus, where he made himself solid with the Indians and re- 
ceived from them a deed for the flats at Atharhacton, as the 
Indians called these "Great Meadows". This deed is dated 
June 5, 1652, but the Indians claimed that Chambers had not 
paid the price, and it was seventeen years before this charge 
was investigated and disproved and the deed duly confirmed 
by the English authorities, and shortly after, October 16, 1672, 
his lands were erected into a manor by patent and he became 
Lord of the Manor of Fox Hall, which lay to the north of 

76 



the present city of Kingston, but extended to Rondout, where 
he was buried. His gravestone is imbedded in the foundation 
wall of the house that now covers the site of his family vault, 
and "The Old Pear Tree of Thomas Chambers" stands close 
by. Chambers died April 8, 1694, and this tree is claimed to 
have been of his day and generation. 

To the Indians this region was Atharhacton or Great Mead- 
ows. This soon became Atkarkarton, but the place was gen- 
erally know as Esopus or Sopus, the "place of small rivers". 
When in 1661 Peter Stuyvesant laid out the palisaded village 
he named it Wiltwyck, the "village of the wild". Then came 
the English who directed that the "Town formerly called 
Sopez be named Kingston", presumably after the home town 
of the then Governor, Lord Lovelace. During the short period 
of Dutch reoccupation, 1673-4, they renamed the place Swaenen- 
bergh, but upon the return of the English it again became 
Kingston, and has so continued even unto this day. 

The great local historic events here were the first and sec- 
ond Esopus wars, the organization of the state government and 
the burning of Kingston by the British. 

About 1657-8 some drunken Indians killed a white man 
and fired one or two houses. This led to a visit from Governor 
Stuyvesant with a strong guard which overawed the hostiles. 
This conference with the Indians induced a temporary peace 
and the selection, on May 31, 1658, of a site for Stuyvesant's 
proposed palisaded village. This was bounded by the present 
North Front, Green and Main Streets and Clinton Avenue (for- 
merly East Front Street). No buildings were allowed next 

77 



the stockade, hence these streets. By June 20th the stockade 
was completed, and the buildings removed from the farms 
within the inclosure. 

In August, 1659, Hermanus Blom, the first minister in the 
Esopus, visited the settlement and held services. He proving 
satisfactory was sent by the people to Holland to be ordained, 
and in due time became their pastor. 

On the night of September 19, 1659, a party of drunken In- 
dians, who had been doing nothing worse than making Rome 
howl, was attacked while sleeping off their debauch by certain 
valiant settlers, and so the First Esopus War was inaugurated. 

The stockade which hard-headed Peter Stuyvesant had 
compelled the inhabitants to build was now to prove his wis- 
dom, for in less than forty-eight hours the settlement was in- 
vested by about five hundred Indian warriors who managed 
to set several fires by their fire-arrows, but small damage was 
done, however, during the seventeen days siege beyond the 
destruction of farm property outside the fort. 

Unsuccessful in their attack the Indians proceeded to tor- 
ture nine prisoners of a group of fourteen that were captured 
on the first day. Of these Thomas Chambers was one, but he 
managed to kill five of the six warriors who had him in charge 
and escape. Still another one of the prisoners escaped, two 
more were ransomed and one took unto himself a dusky wife 
and was adopted into the tribe, but the others ran the gauntlet 
and were finally burned alive in the most approved Indian 
style. 

By the time Stuyvesant and a small force arrived to raise 

78 



the siege the Indians had become tired and departed of their 
own accord. Then came heavy rains and a freshet which cov- 
ered the lowlands with five feet of water, which rendered 
pursuit impossible. Then Stuyvesant declared war, and the 
energetic Ensign Dirck Smit, who had held the fort those sev- 
enteen days, proceeded to keep the savages on the jump, now 
and then killing a few or capturing more. He discovered a 
fort, somewhere near Rosendale, which he destroyed, captur- 
ing many peltries and much maize and beans, and in due time 
a temporary peace was patched up — on July 15, 1660. 

But Stuyvesant had sent some of the captured Indians into 
slavery in the West Indies, and refused to return them when 
peace was made. This rankled. Each side was suspicious of 
the other, and the former friendly feeling was not renewed, 
while various small insults and outrages aroused a feeling 
of resentment on the part of the Indians which finally culmin- 
ated, on June 7, 1663, in the surprising of the unsuspecting 
stay-at-homes in the stockade while the men were at work on 
the farms outside. And the Second Esopus Indian War was on. 

Here is Dominie Blom's description of the massacre, which 
is interesting both for matter and manner: — 

"Revd. Wise, right learned and pious : 

"The state and condition of my Church, situate in the 
village of Wiltwyck, in the Esopus country, in New Neth- 
erland, since my three years' residence there is somewhat 
prosperous, through God's blessing and mercy, as well in 
members, which have increased from 16 to 60, as in hear- 
ers, and all was well ordered in church matters and con- 
sistory, so that everything is placed on a good footing. I 
have also laid a good foundation, both by private and pub- 

79 



lie Instruction of Catechists, both within and without my 
house, as also by the explanation of the Catechism, so that 
this newly rising community began to grow and to bloom 
right worthily, when a cruel blow overtook it and the Hea- 
thens fell on, and right sorely treated our Church and Com- 
monality, and under the guise of friendship murdered and 
also captured many; they intended to destroy this Church 
altogether, and to devour it alive, had not the Lord our 
God wonderfully protected it, and they fled, having taken a 
fright in their heart, when no person drove them away. So 
that we escaped with the most part of the inhabitants, and 
have still retained the place. The Lord only be thanked 
therefor, not men — for men's help was far from us ; for the 
soldiers whom we had before were discharged and sent to 
Holland. There lay the burnt and slaughtered bodies, to- 
gether with those wounded by bullets and axes. The last 
agonies and the moans and lamentations of many were 
dreadful to hear. I have been in their midst, and have gone 
into the houses, and along the roads, to speak a word in 
season, and that not without danger of being shot by the 
Indians ; but I went on my mission, and considered not my 
life mine own. I may say with Jeremiah, 'I am he who hath 
seen mercy in the day of the wrath of the Lord'. 

"Consider well, worthy colleagues, how manifold is the 
suffering and lamentation amongst us, of our wounded who 
fled for refuge to my house, and of others who yielded up 
the ghost near me. 

"I encouraged our people as much as possible out of 
God's word, and particularly in prayer to God who hath 
rescued us. We must behold God's flock taken away into 
captivity by the Heathen, and Death come in unexpectedly 
by the windows, and cut off the children from the high- 
ways, and the young men from the street ; so that I might 
exclaim r 'O ! my Bowels — my Bowels ! I am pained at my 
very heart!' and with Jeremiah, 'O that mine head were 
water, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep 
for the slain of my people ; for the dead lay as sheaves be- 
hind the mower'. 



80 



"The burnt bodies were most frightful to behold. * * * 
The houses were converted into heaps of stones, so that I 
might say with Micah, 'We are made desolate', and with 
Jeremiah, 'A piteous wail may go forth in his distress'. But 
in all this my request to our brethren is to remember us 
and our suffering Church in their prayers. With Paul I 
say, 'Brothers, pray for us'. 

'"Tis then soe that we see in all this the rod and Him 
who uses it; and with the Church of the Lord willingly 
bear the Lord's anger ; for we have sinned against him, and 
I exhort my Congregation to patience and endurance ; and 
lately, at our monthly prayer meeting, I took my text from 
Isaiah 42 : 'Who gave Jacob for a spoil and Israel to the 
Robbers?' &c., v. 24, 25; and such other verses in addition. 
I have also every evening during a whole month offered 
prayers up with the congregation, on the four points of our 
fort, under the blue sky. But the Lord strengthened me 
in all this. We trust and depend further on the help of our 
God, that he will not altogether forsake us, but vouchsafe 
us his mercy in the midst of his justice, and evince his 
power in our weakness; for mountains may depart, and 
hills may fall away, but His mercy shall not once depart 
from this feeble and infant congregation. For we lean on 
his mighty arm, and He shall be a wall of fire round about 
us, and require and avenge this blood on the heads of these 
murderous heathens. Already He has begun to do so. 
Many heathens have been slain, and full 22 of our people 
in captivity have been delivered out of their hands by our 
arms. Another expedition is about to set out. The Lord 
our God will again bless our arms, and grant that the Foxes 
who have endeavored to lay waste the vineyard of the Lord 
shall be destroyed. 

"The Indians have slain in all 24 souls in our place, and 
taken 45 prisoners, of whom 13 are still in their power. 
About the same number of theirs are in our hands. 

"The Lord our God will make all turn out to be the best 
for his Church, and for the peace and quiet of the whole 
land. The mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God 
the Father, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost be and 

81 



remain with you, my worthy colleagues for ever; and may 
this Triune. God give us all together after this strife, the 
crown of immortal glory. * * * 

"HERMANUS BLOM. 

"The i8th September, 1663, 
"in New Amsterdam in New Netherland, 
"Egra manu." 

Nieuw Dorp (Hurley) was also devastated, and the pris- 
oners from both places, consisting of forty-six women and 
children, were carried back into the wilderness. 

Then came the days of incursions into the enemies' country, 
negotiations which resulted in the ransoming of a few of the 
captives, the final destruction of the Indian fort at Shawan- 
gunk and of large quantities of standing corn, the killing of a 
large number of Indians and the liberating of all those remain- 
ing in captivity. 

The tribe was practically annihilated by these raids, and 
the war came to an end for the want of warriors, and as the 
few remaining nearly starved to death the following Winter, 
the making of a treaty of peace was a comparatively easy mat- 
ter for the Dutch. 

Now came the English, 1664, and they caused a commotion 
by compelling our Dutchmen to clean up their village of Wilt- 
wyck, each being obliged to clean the street in front of his 
property lest "the blowings out of a tobacco pipe" set the place 
on fire. The village was fined fifty schepels of wheat "for not 
fencing the burying ground". 

Then, barring the short reoccupation of the Dutch, came a 
hundred years of peace, which were more comfortable to live 

82 



than interesting to tell about, until the momentus year of 1777 
dawned. 

The following, concerning "Ulster's Most Famous Spot", 
the courthouse in Kingston, covers the next interesting period. 
It is condensed from an article in "Olde Ulster" which ap- 
peared during 1906: — 

The General Assembly on November i, 1683, divided the 
colony into counties ; of these Ulster was one. An appropria- 
tion was made for a courthouse and jail, and the lot on which 
the present courthouse stands was set apart for the purpose, 
the first courthouse being erected in 1684. 

The Provincial Congress moved from Fishkill to Kingston 
on February 11, 1777, and in the building known as "The Sen- 
ate House", is said to have prepared a draft of a proposed con- 
stitution of the new state ; this was in the handwriting of John 
Jay. The convention met in the courthouse where John Jay, 
Gouverneur Morris, Robert R. Livingston, James Duane and 
others led in the debate which followed, and the constitution 
was adopted on April 20, 1777, and immediately a committee 
was appointed to report a plan for organizing and establishing 
the form of government. Two days later the village authori- 
ties were summoned to the courthouse, where from a platform 
in front of the building Robert Berrian, secretary of the con- 
vention, read the document, while the bells on the courthouse 
and the old Dutch church on the corner below rang out a glad 
hosanna to the newborn state. 

After arranging for the election of various state officers 
and lawgivers the convention turned over the direction of af- 

83 



fairs to a Council of Safety, and, on May 13th, dissolved. Gen. 
George Clinton was elected both Governor and Lieutenant- 
Governor, and accepted the higher office. He was with the 
army in the Highlands of the Hudson, but rode up to Kingston 
where, on July 30, 1777, he took the oath of office before the 
Council of Safety in our historic courthouse, and again the glad 
bells rang out. 

The Legislature which had been called to assemble at the 
same place on August first was adjourned twice, but finally 
met on September first. It is not certain just where it was 
organized, but probably in the courthouse. All the room here 
was needed, however, and the Senate met at "The Senate 
House", while the Assembly held its sessions at the Bogardus 
Inn (destroyed), at Maiden Lane and Fair Street, and the 
Council of Safety at the Elmendorf Inn (standing), diagonally 
opposite.* Chief Justice John Jay opened the first session of 
the new court and charged the first Grand Jury in the court- 
house. "Thus was the state of New York in each of its three 
great departments — executive, legislative and judicial — here or- 
ganized and set in motion. It gives to this small area of 
ground, of less than fifty feet in diameter, a never-to-be-for- 
gotten glory." 



* The minutes of the Legislature show that many meetings of the two 
Houses were held in the courthouse. 



84 



KINGSTON, 



Some of Its Old Buildings, Golden Hill, Aaron Burr, Skilliput Ferry. 



On October i6, 1777, Kingston was burned by the British. 
Gen. John Vaughan, who superintended the affair, had this to 
say of the place in his report: "Esopus being a Nursery for 
almost every Villain in the Country, I judged it necessary to 
proceed to that town." And proceed he did, making as clean 
a job of destruction as the most exacting monarch could ask, 
only one house in the town being left untouched. The stout 
stone walls of many, however, were unaffected by the bum-out, 
as is evidenced on all sides to-day. That part of the city which 
was once inclosed by palisades is still studded thick with the 
interesting buildings of one and two hundred years ago. In fact 
there are so many as to overpower the casual tramp like my- 
self, for without realizing what was before me I started out 
bravely to photograph the most of them, but soon was com- 
pelled to compromise on a few of those which at the time 
seemed to give greatest promise. Around almost every one, 
however, cling interesting anecdotes of family or local doings. 

85 



In making our pilgrimage round the town it is but natural to 
begin with the show house of Kingston, "The Senate House", 
North Front Street and Clinton Avenue (formerly East Front). 
This is now state property and a most interesting museum. 
Erected about 1676 by Col. Wessel Ten Broeck, it is one of the 
oldest buildings in the city. At the opening of the Revolution 
it was owned by Abraham Van Gaasbeek, and was selected for 
the meetings of the Senate upon the organization of the state 
government, and here the regular sessions were held, with oc- 
casional changes to the courthouse, until the approach of the 
British, October 16, 1777. The building was burned in the con- 
flagration that followed, but was repaired soon after the close 
of the war, and has been in use ever since. General Armstrong, 
who moved to Kingston in order to give his children good 
educational advantages, occupied the building, 1804, for a short 
time before his departure as minister to France. 

If we now proceed along North Front Street to Green, we 
must pass on the right the one-time residence of Abraham B. 
Bancker, twice tried by fire, 1777 and 1804. The house can 
hardly date with the oldest, as it stands on the wrong side of 
the street, where the palisades formerly ran, but it stands up 
as straight and holds its head as high as the best of them, and 
well it may, for was not the former dweller beneath its roof 
clerk of the State Senate for long years, 1784- 1802, and a man 
of parts? 

Diagonally opposite the Bancker house stands the famous 
De Waal place of entertainment, no ordinary hotel this, though 
it did condescend, when court was in session, to entertain 

86 



boarders; but its chief glory was the ballroom, famous for 
many a good time in the old days. While the music was a sin- 
gle fiddle, a proper costume was as absolutely necessary as the 
invitation. There was a trifle more latitude then than now in 
the matter of men's dress, for the regulations allowed a choice 
of dress coat, white stockings and pumps, or the knee-breeches 
and silk stockings of an earlier day. 

Our next stop is in front of the Hoffman house, North 
Front and Green Streets. This again takes us back to the days 
of the palisades, in fact a small cellar window on the Green 
Street side is pointed out as having once been an embrasure 
wherein a cannon frowned, but as the palisade was across the 
street it is not quite clear what such warlike preparation was 
good for, unless the house was to be a citadel of last resort 
should the outer defenses be carried. Gen. George H. Sharpe 
has this to say on the subject : "I do not believe that it was a 
fort, or occupied the site of one, but, thus standing as it still 
does upon an eminence thus commanding the palisades be- 
yond the upper part, was probably prepared with embrasures 
for the use of musketry, and from these the citizens could easily 
reach Indians assaulting the walls. 

Over against the Hoffman house, North Front Street, 
stands the former residence of Joseph Gasherie, first surrogate 
of Ulster County under the first constitution. 

The old academy building. Crown and John Streets, next 
claims attention. Built originally for dwelling purposes, it 
was purchased in 1773 for educational purposes and imme- 
diately put in commission. With the rest of the village it was 

87 



burned in October, 1777, but so promptly were repairs made 
that in less than four months after the fire the building was 
again the home of learning and was asking for an assistant 
teacher. For years this was one of the most flourishing schools 
in the Hudson valley, drawing scholars from all parts of the 
state. 

At the apex of the acute angle formed by Crown and Green 
Streets stands the John Tappan house, recently purchased by 
the Daughters of the Revolution, and to be used by them as a 
headquarters. John Tappan, while a lawyer by profession, ap- 
pears to have been a newspaper man by choice, for he was both 
editor and proprietor of the Ulster Plebeian from 1813 to the 
time of his death. The printing and publication office occupied 
the second floor, while in one corner of the first he kept a book 
and stationery store. To-day there is hardly a more peaceful 
looking spot in the entire city than this quiet old building with 
its great sentinel trees in front ; there is now no suggestion of 
those hot broadsides that must have poured from that upper 
story. During the days of the Revolution this was the home 
of Henry J. Sleght, president of the village trustees, to whom 
fell the honor of reading the address of welcome when Gen. 
George Washington visited Kingston, November 16, 1782. 

On the western side of Green Street, a few steps beyond 
Crown, is to be found the Judge Dirck Wynkoop homestead. 
It was here that General Washington was entertained at din- 
ner, November 16, 1782, in the rear extension of the building, 
beneath which were the quarters of the negro family servants. 
It is claimed that on Washington's second visit to Kingston, 

88 



about August 2 or 3, 1783, he spent the night with Judge Wyn- 
koop. This was on his return from a tour through the state, 
when he suggested the tremendous advantage a canal connect- 
ing the Hudson and the Great Lakes would give the state of 
New York. The ideas imbibed during this trip are said to 
have been the cause of his great interest and activity in the 
Potomac and James River canal schemes, which were to con- 
nect the seaboard with the Ohio River. 

If we continue along Green Street as far as the way will 
let us, then around the corner and into and along Wall Street, 
we shall shortly pass the only house not burned by the British; 
so far as the writer knows this is its chief est glory; the for- 
mer tavern and home of Tobias Van Steenberg Jr. 

On the northwest corner of Maiden Lane and Fair Street 
still stands "The Tavern of Coenradt Elmendorf". Here the 
first Council of Safety sat from February 19, 1777, until super- 
seded by the meeting of the Legislature on September loth, 
and when this adjourned and the second Council of Safety 
came into being, it again met in this historic house, and it was 
here, while holding its last session, October 15th, before the 
British attack that "A letter from John Barclay Esq. chair- 
man of the committee of Albany was received and read con- 
taining an account of the capitulation of General Burgoyne 
and his army". 

"Ordered, That the treasurer of this state pay to Bernardus 
Hallenbeeck, the bearer of said letter, the sum of fifty dollars." 

Here ends the record. Most of the able bodied men of the 
town had gone north and south to the defense of their country, 

89 



the enemy was at its doors and there was naught to do but 
leave the place to its fate. 

After the Revolution the building became noted as the head- 
quarters of the Republican or anti-Federal party. Politics was 
a burning question in those days, and one of the best argu- 
ments known to both sides was a broken head for the other 
fellow. When we know that the rival headquarters was di- 
agonally across the street, one can form some idea of what 
the neighborhood must have been like. The proprietor him- 
self was known as "Toper Conrad", from which it would seem 
a safe guess that he sometimes drank behind the bar. A stone 
in the gable end on Fair Street indicates that the building was 
erected in 1723 for K. E. D. + B. E. D. 

Our journey ends at the Dutch church. Fair, Main and Wall 
Streets, whose slender spire, reaching far above all else in the 
neighborhood, is so beautifully proportioned that it is sure to 
arrest the attention of the traveller, whether he stand in the 
streets below or far out on the country roads. There is a very 
pleasant story connected with the bell which swings in this 
belfry. When Kingston was burned the church, of course, 
went with the rest, and when the bell was dug out of the ruins 
it was found so irretrievably ruined that no repair was possible. 
Then it was, so the story goes, that the parishioners brought 
their gold and silver ornaments, and their brass and copper 
utensils, and these being all collected together, were sent to 
Holland and there cast into the present summoner of the de- 
vout, who can well say we "have with holy bell been knolled 
to church". This story has been disputed, but I understand 

90 



that Mr. Randall Hoes has in his possession convincing docu- 
ments of its correctness, which it is hoped will some time come 
into the possession of the church. 

The entire church building is said to be absolutely pro- 
portioned from a mathematical standpoint. The local archi- 
tect who designed the edifice was a student under the noted 
Richardson of Boston. Sentiment has much more to do with 
our feelings than we are aware of. It is at times difficult to 
adapt oneself to some of the modern church interiors, from 
which the simplicity and stateliness we associate with a house 
of worship are altogether gone, and this can hardly help but 
react on the spirit of the worshipper. But the interior we have 
here is so restful and worshipful that it is like receiving a bless- 
ing to stand within its cool portals if but for a moment. 

A tablet on the outer walls gives a brief history of the 
church organization; there are also two interesting brown- 
stone tablets imbedded in the wall which were taken from the 
old Dutch church in New York when that was demolished 
years ago. In the vestibule, behind a protecting glass cover, 
hangs a letter from General Washington, dated at Kingston, 
November i6, 1782, replying to a letter of welcome addressed 
to him by the minister, elders and deacons of the church. 

In 1704 it was written: — 

"His Excellency * * * has appointed the Rev. Mr. 
Hepburn to preach and to read Divine service to them, 
whereby the English, who never had a minister among 
them, have the benefit of public Worship, and are in good 
hopes of bringing the Dutch to a conformity." 

91 



The inhabitants were mostly Dutch, and the following ex- 
tracts, from a letter from Secretary Clarke to the "Gentlemen 
at Esopus", indicate that they were in no mood for "con- 
formity" : — 

"You have not paid yt Obedience to his Excellency's 
Commands, and that regard to this gentleman's Character, 
as was due, and this appears plainly by ye mean accommo- 
dacons you provided before. I am therefore * * * ^q 
lett you known that you are immediately without delays in 
misconstruing any part of this to provide a good and Con- 
venient house in your town of Kingstown with necessary's 
thereto belonging * * *^ ^^d make a speedy return of 
what you shall have done therein." 

Reminds me of the method pursued by my grandmother, 
when some unwelcome task was set her eldest son. My father 
was wont to tell how she stimulated him by announcing that 
he had five minutes in which to do the job willingly — after 
which she would make him. 

Doctor Van Slyke, who for thirty years has held the pas- 
torate of the Dutch church, has on his home-land one of the 
natural beauties of the Kingston neighborhood, one of those 
limestone ledges of more than usually attractive form, and the 
doctor has worked it into the scheme of his grounds as effect- 
ively as though he had had the laying out of both ledge and 
grounds. Beginning at the entrance gate the footpath follows 
the windings of the ledge, developing new beauties at every 
turn, of fern and wild flower, as well as rock and tree. 

This is Golden Hill, where the setting sun spreads his mu- 
nificence with unstinted hand. As an illustration of how hard 
some natures are beneath a smiling surface, Golden Hill is an 

92 



eminent example, for we are told that here is found a limestone 
of such adamantine qualities that it was selected for the towers 
of the Brooklyn Bridge, from which is suspended that monster 
spiderweb which so gracefully connects the two principal bor- 
oughs of Greater New York, and which must withstand a 
tremendous crushing force. 

If Aaron Burr had been as solid a citizen as he was a kindly, 
his history would have been much more satisfactory reading 
to his descendants than is the case at present. There was a 
screw loose somewhere, no doubt. In these local annals one 
comes across more frequent mention of this name than almost 
any other, excepting always that of Washington. It seems as 
though wherever he stopped he made a lasting impression. 
The following letter shows one side of a very attractive per- 
sonality, and partially, at least, explains why his memory was 
kept so green. 

"Philad. 21. June, 1795. 

"My Dear Sir : I understand that a young Mr. Vander- 
15m, who lived a short time with Stuart the Painter, left him 
for want of means of suitable support. You must persuade 
him to allow me to remove that objection. If he was per- 
sonally acquainted with me, he would, I am confident, ac- 
cept this proposal without hesitation. I commit to you 
then, to overcome any delicacy which he may feel on this 
head. I shall never imagine that I have conferred on him 
the slightest obligation, but shall be infinitely flattered by 
an opportunity of rescuing genius from obscurity. He may 
draw on J. B. Proovost, New York, for any sum which 
may be necessary for his outfit, and on his arrival in this 
city, where Mr. Stuart now lives, he will find a letter from 
me, addressed to him (Mr. Vanderlyn), pointing out the 
channel of his future supplies, the source of which never 

93 



will be known except to himself. I acknowledge that I 
would not have communicated this even to you, if I had 
known how otherwise to get at Mr. V. D. L. I beg you 
to consider it as confidential. This arrangement is intended 
to continue as long as it may be necessary for Mr. V. D. L. 
to cultivate his genius, to the highest point of perfection. 
From the inquiries I have made concerning him I have been 
led to believe that his character and talents are such as may 
do honor to himself, his friends and his country. 
"Your aff'ct Servt., 

"A. BURR, 
"P. Van Gaasbeek. 

It were a shame to depart from Kingston and leave the 
Skilliput ferry unsung. If for no other reason, the name is 
enough to make it famous. Skilliput means mud turtle, and 
one has but to view the boat to appreciate the appropriateness 
of the designation. To see her ladyship come yawing across 
the creek is to laugh. 



94 



ON TO HURLEY. 



Old Buildings, Ghost and Witch. 



Such dry facts as the maps and the milestones agree that it 
is three miles from Kingston to Hurley, but the country ban- 
ishes all thought of distance, for it seemed as though once my 
face was set in that direction the old town was soon come up 
with. It was a beautiful walk through fat lands that, so long 
as a hundred years ago, the church was able to sell for $200 an 
acre, and which to day give every evidence of prosperity. It 
is a restful view off toward the hills which border the west, 
but not much is to be seen of the creek, whose crooked course 
makes it impossible for any well regulated road to keep it com- 
pany, except in the most casual way. 

To those who have not already discovered the fact, I would 
say that my study of history is largely confined to that which 
furnishes some outward and visible form that can be photo- 
graphed. Such intangible things as motives or consequences 
are of small moment as compared with a door which still bears 
the marks of an Indian tomahawk, or a building which, in its 

95 



wooden way, has helped to make history. So if certain seem- 
ingly important matters connected with the region to which I 
am attending just now are omitted, or but lightly touched on, 
the reason is that they do not come up to the standard of the 
camera. 

When the trade in furs began to slow down the people 
naturally turned to the land for help, and the rich bottom lands 
at what is now Old Hurley invited early settlement. As early 
as 1662 preparation was made for the village of Niew Dorp, 
but while the farmers were in the fields reaping the fruits of 
their first sowing the Second Esopus War was suddenly 
opened in September, 1663, by the destruction of the newly 
founded hamlet. This was a brief set-back, however, for it 
sprang from its ashes into new life the moment the storm of 
war was hushed. By 1669 the English, who were then in 
power, changed the name to Hurley, after the Irish estate of 
the then Governor, Francis Lovelace. 

Times of peace are all very well for the folks who live in 
them, but they do not make much of a showing on paper ; hence 
we jump the dull times of almost one hundred years to the days 
when those who wrested these rich lands from the Indians 
were defending their own hearthstones against the invasion of 
a foe from across the great water in the days of '76, and the 
day when the refugees from burning Kingston came stream- 
ing down the long street of Hurley, asking for help and re- 
ceiving it at every door. What a sight was here: Mothers 
with their broods of children too young to fight, for the able- 
bodied were away at the front; the grandfathers and grand- 

96 



mothers, each loaded with such treasures as had been saved 
from the burning, and bowed with the infirmities which 
come to those whose Hfe has been spent in field and wood in 
fair weather and foul. Those who could not be cared for in 
Hurley were passed along to Marbletown, and it is safe to say 
that there was not one but had adequate shelter by night. 
What a scene of bustle, with every nook and corner filled, and 
all that multitude to feed. Then it was that the bams should 
have been bursting with the Summer's crops in this land of 
corn, but the harvest had been poor and this was to be a Winter 
of great scarcity. There was need for a miracle of the loaves 
and fishes here, but though the people had scantily received 
they freely gave, and for several long months sheltered the 
homeless with a warmhearted generosity born of the emer- 
gency. 

Hurley is more nearly as it was a hundred years ago than 
any other town in these parts that has lain in my way — just 
one long street with the simple old stone houses lining its way, 
and every glimpse between opening to the country and the 
hills, all peace and sunshine, and every house with a history of 
its own well worth the telling could one but live with it long 
enough to gather the facts and the spirit. 

First, of course, comes the Senate House, the Van Deusen- 
Krum-Ten Eyck-Nash house, for Hurley is the third capital of 
the state. The Council of Safety fled from Kingston through 
Hurley to Marbletown, but on November 17th adjourned to the 
house of Captain Jan Van Deusen on the north side of Hurley 
Street. In these parts November and rough weather are 

97 



closely associated, and one of the first things done was an at- 
tempt to provide warmth for the shivering councilmen, so Cor- 
nelius Duboys was deputed to collect the remains of a stove 
from the burned courthouse at Kingston and set it up in the 
Hurley council chamber, but the experiences of that stove had 
so warped its judgment and nature that it was no longer the 
genial giver of warmth, and as the weather grew colder our 
refrigerated lawgivers adjourned to Poughkeepsie, and the 
glory of Hurley was at an end. Captain Van Deusen was paid 
"the sum of thirty dollars in full for the use of his room and 
firewood, and other services", and the old house dropped back 
into the routine of village humdrum. Fortunately the building 
is now in the hands of those who appreciate and love its his- 
tory and legend, and it has every prospect of a comfortable 
and happy old age. The property on which the house stands 
was included in the De Witt grant of 1688, but who built the 
house or when I have not learned. 

Next in historic importance is Van Sickle's tavern, 1716, 
which even in the days of the Revolution was catering to the 
wants of man. This was the headquarters of Governor Clin- 
ton, whose forces were too late to save Kingston, Imme- 
diately after the fall of Fort Montgomery Governor Clinton 
made his quarters at the house of Mrs. Falls, Little Britain, 
and here he proceeded to collect his scattered forces in an ef- 
fort to reach the unprotected capital of the state before the 
arrival of the enemy. This was a slow operation and, although 
he did his best, he was just too late to be of service. It was 
back of this building on the outstretched bough of an old 

98 



apple tree that the spy, Daniel Taylor, was hanged, October 
i8, 1777. 

November 16, 1782, General Washington passed through 
Hurley on his way to Kingston, and at the corner where the 
road leaves Hurley Street for Kingston he was halted while 
Matthew Ten Eyck read "The Humble Address of the Trus- 
tees of the Freeholders and Inhabitants of the Town of Hur- 
ley" "To His Excellency George Washington, General and 
Commander-in-Chief of the American Army, etc." It is said 
the general sat his horse bare-headed while the rain descended 
on his welcome, but the address was short, and doubtless the 
chief had been out in the rain before. The old Houghtaling 
house at this bend in the road is still standing with the hos- 
pitable reputation of having offered the great man a glass of 
wine, so that not all the dampness was without. 

Next west of the Senate House stands the Elmendorf house, 
once a tavern, and next beyond that shine the whitewashed 
walls of a house that lays no claim to greatness, beyond the 
virtue of growing old gracefully, while still further on stands 
the "Guard House", where the spy was held prisoner. 

Before we get too far away from the Elmendorf house it 
is well to note that there was a time when this house contained 
the visible evidence that witches did exist in Hurley. It seems 
that a witch got into the churn once and the butter would not 
come. Now the cure for this is a red-hot horseshoe dropped 
into the refractory cream, and this method was adopted with 
entire success, the horseshoe being so thoroughly heated that 
the cream had not entirely cooled its ardor by the time it 

99 



reached the bottom of the churn, where was left its faint im- 
print. The churn was so well exorcised that never again did 
witch venture within. Witches are scarce these days, and un- 
fortunately the old relic is gone, else could we point the unbe- 
liever to ocular proof of their baleful being. 

Most of those who write of this region mention the "Cheese 
Mines of Hurley" without so much as giving the reader a clue 
as to just what those cheese mines are, or were. The traveller 
naturally pitches on the many groups of cattle which dot the 
fields as the explanation, and so they were indirectly. There 
was a time, it seems, when Hurley was famous for its "Pot 
Cheeses" and Kingston folk came this way to buy. Thus there 
grew up a trade, and as time went on Pot Cheese became syn- 
onymous with Hurley, being used as a term of gentle derision 
by the city people, who were wont to greet the Hurleyite 
within their gates with, "There comes a pot cheeser", or with a 
jingle which ran as follows : — 

"Some come from Hurley, some from the Rhine; 
Some pop fresh from a Pot Cheese Mine." 

I had certain preconceived notions regarding the locations 
of the old buildings, and when, upon making inquiry along 
Hurley Street and receiving answers that did not fit with my 
view of the situation, I finally knocked at the door of the 
Senate House, thinking that here surely would be those who 
could set me straight, and, while this was all so, I was simply 
set in the path that others had before pointed out, and which 
my natural obstinacy would not permit me to at first follow. 
However, the warm welcome that awaited the traveller inside 

100 



of that hospitable door is a thing to be dwelt on. It was raw 
and chill out where I was, and the sandwich which was to con- 
stitute my lunch, under the shelter of some friendly stone wall 
for a windbreak, was not the most alluring prospect in the 
world, and when it was suggested that lunch would be ready 
in a minute and that I must stay, no great amount of urging 
was needed. The wood fire on the hearth reaching out its 
friendly offering of comfort, the Irish setter lying in front of it 
with a welcoming wag, seconding the master's cheerful sug- 
gestions, would have stayed me had I been that youth who 
bore the banner with a strange device himself, and, when the 
mistress came forward I capitulated on the spot. What good 
red-hot soup it was ! and that stew and other fixings following 
after. The Kingstonians of a hundred years before could 
hardly have felt more like calling down blessings on those 
whose hospitable doors always swing in. 

The heavy clouds which had entirely engrossed the atten- 
tion of the sun during the morning hours were breaking up, 
and now began the wonder of a perfect day. There were clouds 
to, be sure, enough for the picture, but more sunshine j the 
wind had dropped to a cool breeze that was as delicious to the 
eyes as a cool draught to a parched throat. TJie country was 
beautiful beyond compare. The road touched the wirTding 
shores of the Esopus, lending a gleam of water to the land- 
scape. The stone walls ran red with bitter sweet, while clouds 
of fluffy milkweed, made glorious by the sun, .dapced to the 
piping of the breeze. An ecstasy ! 

A second visit to Hurley on Washington's Birthday, 1907, 

lOI 



furnished an opportunity to see the Sopus country tucked in 
for the Winter. 

The snow has an interesting way of individualizing. 
Whether it be a weed or a tree, each stands out boldly against 
the white background. The old goldenrods and other butter- 
flies of the vegetable population are now as attractive as 
silhouettes as they were as color masses when life was young, 
and the infinite variety of branch and twig growth among the 
many kinds of trees is a study in ingenuity. Every tree has its 
own peculiar way of pushing its members up or out or down, 
and sticks to its own way with the obstinacy of a Dutchman. 
Possibly it comes from long association. 

My host, the doctor, kindly gave himself up to the search 
for visible evidence of other days, and by dint of much inquiry 
we think that we found on the Hurley-Marbletown Road the 
old Pawling house (about 1670), the only one allowed to be 
built outside of Hurley and Marbletown villages when Ulster 
County was young. We did find the house which all neigh- 
bors agree is the oldest between the two places, and what's 
more, the town line runs smack through the building. When 
we called a mantelpiece was standing outside because the fire- 
place had fallen down. Town line must have run amuck. 

The day! Well, it was simply the apotheosis of Winter 
days — frosty but kindly, sunshine but without glare. We 
travelled far enough beyond the Pawling place to reach that 
point where the road and creek meet for a brief moment, a point 
which attracted the camera last Fall, and now doubly so, for 
the snow and ice reveal beauties not seen before. 

102 



J 



As we tramped back the wind butted in until we buttoned 
him out, though he still nipped at ears and fingers, and was 
really a bit too eager at times, but the sun smiled and we could 
but do likewise. 

The J. P. Ten Eyck house, the mansion of the village, of- 
fered such an invitingly picturesque rear as we approached 
that it was futile for the camera to attempt resistance, and, as 
we came up Hurley Street various of its old stone edifices fell 
victims to that same recording angel. The Elmendorf house 
being possessed of a most obnoxious wooden excrescence at the 
rear, the house of Ellsworth kindly offered a corner to cover the 
unsightliness. 

Right here it may be interesting to note the reason for the 
lack of windows in the second, or attic, stories of these old 
houses. It seems that in early days the folks lived downstairs 
and used the loft for storage of grain and other farm products. 
The west end of the Elmendorf house shows an upper door 
opening out on nothing, with a crane overhead for hoisting 
purposes. The room in which I slept in the Senate House was 
once used for storage of hog products — please note that this 
was long ago— and was known as the pork room. Here were 
hidden under mounds of meat barrels of certain delectable rus- 
set apples that were wont to tempt the children beyond en- 
durance — russets whose vanishing qualities were only equaled 
by the shade of the lady which is said to haunt these upper 
rooms. This is a kindly ghost, one not to be feared. But the 
way she quietly lifts the latch of the "antiquarium", allowing 
the Winter wind to bustle down the stairs right into the 

103 



kitchen, and this even in midday, indicates a tendency to mis- 
chief which suggests that the lady must have died young, 
though tradition has it otherwise. 

It is a mistake to regard ghosts as fearful things; they 
seldom harm. On the contrary, if met half way, should prove 
agreeable and interesting companions. But there are those 
who refuse absolutely to believe in ghosts. A story of such 
a one has been going the rounds recently which would seem 
to prove that it is not worth while to be to hasty in one's con- 
clusions, even regarding ghosts. Our friend being compelled 
to spend a night in a haunted house, awoke of a sudden to see 
a large, fleshy hand on the footboard of his bed. The thought- 
ful man had taken his pistol to bed with him and, not being in 
the least nervous, pulled his gun, remarking as he did so that 
he would fire if the hand was not removed by the time he had 
counted three. He was not in the least nervous, and calmly 
counted three. The hand was still there and he pulled the 
trigger, thereby shooting off two of his own toes. They do 
say that from that very moment his remarks about ghosts have 
not only been voluble, but highly inflammatory, and what he 
thinks about ghosts now he has no hesitation in saying. 

The grandfathers of the village tell how as boys they 
danced the grave of the spy away. It seems that in their youth 
a considerable ;mound marked the last resting place of Daniel 
Taylor, and the boys, probably taking their cue from the talk 
of the "sitters", made a practice of having a bit of a fling on 
the grave whenever passing that way, until now nothing re- 
mains to mark the place which, we are told, is immediately 

104 



in front of the front doorstep of the modern Van Sickle house. 
It was near the southeast corner of this same building that the 
apple tree gallows stood, the poor man being disposed of in 
much the same manner as was suggested in an old song for 
the taking off of Jeff Davis. 

Over across the creek, and beyond the flats and under the 
hills stand the Brink and the Wynkoop houses, and a bit south, 
on the very feet of these same patient hills, the De Witt and 
two Newkirk homesteads, the further one of which is now 
occupied as the house of Stuart. Over a kitchen window of 
this is set a stone tablet, which, through age and many coatings 
of government paint (whitewash), affords the antiquarian the 
satisfaction of thinking what he likes, without much fear of 
contradiction. To some it seems to say "B. G. NK. A. D. 1779", 
to others "1710". The De Witt whose nearby house bears 
date 1750, insists that his is the older, and was inclined to get 
a bit warm about it, in spite of the thermometer, which some 
earlier in the day had been 12 below zero. 

This road follows the base of the hills, which end at the 
flats much as an upsidedown teacup ends at the tablecloth, 
and is one continuous curve of beauty. There is ever ahead a 
bend, with its mystery of the unknown beyond, to entice like 
the will-o'-the-wisp, but there is no trouble at the other end, 
only Kingston. 

To look at from inside of the house the afternoon was quite 
on a par with our glorious morning, and we started the cameras 
for Spook Hollow, which lies on the west side of the road to 
Kingston shortly after one clears the village. But out in the 

105 



open the wind held sway, and a good forceful wind that has 
been rolling over and over in the snow all day is no trifler. 
We went for the picture, and we got it, or thought we did, but 
now the doctor is inclined to think that this is one of the 
things he knew that was not so. Fortunately, however, there 
was no doubt in our minds at the time, and we wasted no time 
in our efforts to get back to the fireside of the Senate House, 
where we could more leisurely enjoy the whistling of the wind. 

It seems that the spook has lost his head. What the excite- 
ment was is not explained, but the last time he was seen he 
was in a state of decapitation, sitting in his hollow with his 
arms folded, possibly hoping some belligerent spirit would come 
along and put a head on him, or words to that effect. These 
spooks appear to have been mostly founded by the negro slaves, 
who brought many superstitions with them to these shores 
and promptly proceeded to fit them to every peculiar feature of 
the landscape. A lonely or unusual spot where the voudoo 
could hold incantations would soon be peopled with folks that 
were of no earthly use. There is a description in "The Dutch 
Dominie" of a midnight raising of spirits in one of these spots 
which probably is reasonably true to life. 

Well it is about time to get back to last Autumn and Mar- 
bletown, or we will never get home in this world. 



io6 



MARBLETOWN TO PLATTEKILL. 



Stone Ridge, New Paltz, Names, Libertyville, Jenkinstown, Wallkill, 

Indian Dam. 



The Marbletown of 1664 has so completely vanished from 
the face of the earth that even its exact location is not now 
known. As the need for protection against the Indians became 
less and less the farmers gradually abandoned the village for 
their farms, until finally the last man moved, and now not one 
stone remains upon another to tell where its fifty-three houses 
stood, although the present hamlet of the same name is pre- 
sumed to be about on the same site. But even so our Marble- 
town of to-day boasts one old house, that of Janitje Davis, 
Widow Davis, where the annual meetings of the inhabitants 
were held and the public business transacted from 1730 to 1770, 
and possibly on into the next century. 

Nearly opposite this stood the house of Andrew Oliver, to 
which the Council of Safety fled from Kingston, and where it 
held its meetings for about a month, October 19th to Novem- 
ber 14th, thus making Marbletown the second capital of the 
state. 

When Marbletown was abandoned the church organization 

107 



was moved to Stone Ridge, so that many of the early church 
records which continued the use of the first name really refer 
to matters in the latter place. Stone Ridge is quite a village. 
As I entered it on this Fall afternoon the impression of many 
Summer boarding houses fixed itself, without any very obvious 
reason, for no Summer boarders were in sight at that time of 
the year. 

Stone Ridge was the home of Major Cornelius E. Wynkoop, 
with whom General Washington spent the night of November 
15, 1782. The illustrious guest is said to have occupied the 
front room of the second story at the southwestern corner of 
the house. Across the street stands the former home of 
Johannes Tack, in which, it is said. Judge Levi Pawling or- 
ganized the first court of sessions after the burning of Kings- 
ton. 

My schedule is supposed to be subject to change without 
notice, and, though New Paltz was down as the last stop for 
the day, I should have remained over night at Stone Ridge 
and gone on the next morning in orderly fashion, but such was 
my state of mind that New Paltz suddenly became a neces- 
sity, and what lies between is an unknown country, except as 
the map shows, for, but two miles away at Binnewater, ran the 
railroad, and thither I walked by the light of departing day. 

A purple light that never was before lay on the nearby 
eastern hills, as transparent as the crystal waters of the Florida 
east coast. It overlay the green of the grass, the browned 
leaves of the oaks and the gray of the naked granite, all colors 
seen through it, and yet all toned with purple. As I trudged 

108 



onward to Binnewater the scene gradually became of the im- 
pressionistic school. Detail was lost as the landscape dark- 
ened, the hills swam faintly through the purple haze until night 
came down, and the cold drove me on toward the distant lights 
where supper lay. 

Mr. Ralph Le Fevre, the New Paltz historian, was my one 
good excuse for hurry, as an evening interview sets matters 
right for the following morning and does not consume valu- 
able daylight. Mr. Le Fevre proved to be as amiable as 
learned, and before the evening was out I was possessed of 
such facts as would interest the camera when the time came. 

All the old New Paltz houses are on Huguenot Street, 
along whose margin the first settlers are believed to have built 
their log cabins. If we begin at the south end of the street we 
must begin with the dead, for here is the old burial ground 
with stones dating back to October 7, 1731. The gravestone 
of Abraham Du Bois, "Survivor of 12 Patentees" is merely a 
flat field stone set on end, but is the only known resting place 
of any of the twelve men who secured the original patents to 
this region. There are other graves of interest, the deciphering 
of whose stones is largely a matter of conjecture, for in the 
early days initials were allowed to do the work of words, and 
what they stand for sometimes puzzles the antiquarian. 

Across the street from the old graveyard stands the Jean 
Hasbrouck house, 1712, which housed six generations of Has- 
broucks before it passed out of the family. This has recently 
been purchased as a memorial to the first settlers and contains 
an interesting museum of antiquities. 

109 



Next, on the right as we proceed north, is the Abraham 
Deyo house, son of Christian, the patentee, but its recent own- 
ers have improved it to death. 

On the left comes the original Du Bois house with its 
date, 1705, on the east wall facing the street (same year as the 
Salisbury house in Leeds). This was probably a refuge in time 
of need, as the portholes in its walls indicate. 

Now we will cross again to the original Bevier house, the 
Elting store before the Revolution. Between this and the 
store down the street in the Hasbrouck house existed a com- 
petition which was not only the life of trade, but furnished food 
for much gossip as well. A late addition to this building was 
made in 1735. 

Next north is the Abraham Hasbrouck homestead, original 
patentee, and still in the Hasbrouck family. And beyond is 
the Freer house; at least it was one hundred and sixty years 
ago, before the Freer family left these parts. 

Those of us who can trace our ancestry back for three 
hundred years think we are doing very well by ourselves, but 
I have recently heard a well authenticated story of a Hebrew 
in Australia who is in a class all by himself. Owning an ex- 
tensive ranch he invited a group of strangers to visit his do- 
main, and, as it happened, the day after their arrival was 
Christmas. On that morning he approached one of his visitors 
with the statement that he appreciated the Christian senti- 
ment in regard to the day and hoped his guests would follow 
their usual customs on this occasion, ending with the statement 

no 



that he had no feeling in the matter himself as his family was 
in Spain at the time and knew nothing of the persecution or 
death of Christ. In other words, he could follow his line back 
for nineteen hundred years or more. Makes most of us look 
as though we were still shining through our first coat of 
varnish. 

The study of names is always an interesting one, and par- 
ticularly so of these old Dutch and French names. Du Bois, 
"of the wood"; Deyo (d'eau), "of the water". Hasbrouck 
(what does it mean?) has been written Hasbroocq, and Broocq 
without the prefix Has. Dr. Van Slyke credits his reverend 
brother. Dr. Vermilyea, with the following explanation of the 
De Witt patronymic: When the Le Blancs of Rochelle fled 
to Holland to avoid persecution they Dutchified the name to 
De Witt, still meaning "the White". Ten Eyck stands for 
"the Oak" as Demarest does for "the Marshes". Jan's son 
was known as Jansen. There are in Bergen County, N. J., 
interesting variations which show how closely allied in some 
instances are families whose present names are wholly dis- 
similar, as the early settlers often dropped the last name, even 
in so important a matter as the signing of deeds ; thus Hendrick 
Epke Banta has placed his name on a deed simply as Hendrick 
Epke, and Hendrick Jorisen Brinkerhoff as Hendrick Jorisen, 
and in some cases the surname was never resumed, and the 
result is that the Bantas and Epkes are cousins from the same 
male stock, likewise the Brinkerhoffs and Jorisens. Another 
instance is that of the Van Riper name. The original immi- 
grant was Jurean Tomassen, from the town of Reipen. Jurean 

III 



Tomassen was Jurean, son of Tomas. There may have been 
a confusion among the sons of Tomas and a necessity for dis- 
tinguishing one from the other, or there may have been some 
other reason, but whatever it was, this branch of the family fol- 
lowed a custom of the times when he added to his name Van 
Reipen. This, as time rolled on, became Van Riper, as we 
have it to-day, but time was doing even more wonderful things 
with the first name, Jurean, for some of the first settler's de- 
scendants adopted this as their Christian name and it was 
twisted and turned and worked over, finally emerging as 
Yereance. Thus are the Van Ripers and the Yereances from 
the same stock. 

An oak tree at the residence of A. M. Lowe, on the Paltz 
Plains, is the last surviving member of a long-lived family that 
flourished hundreds of years ago. Its brother, when cut down 
many years since, showed rings to prove that it had faced 478 
Winters, and the present standard bearer is believed to have all 
of 500 years to his credit. 

Dominie Bonrepose, good sleeper, was the suggestive 
name of one of the New Paltz early ministers. 

During its early days New Paltz boasted of a citizen who 
bore the singular name of Rampant. It was probably given 
to him for cause, if the following legend is true: While run- 
ning for the rendezvous on the occasion of an Indian alarm, our 
friend Rampant, being heavy, became mired. His companions 
discovering his absence returned to find their neighbor with a 
dead Indian beside him, he having seized the redskin by the 
throat and smothered him in the mud. There are certain de- 

112 



tails which the legend does not go into, nor does it seem to us 
that it does the gentleman full justice. Why not two Indians, 
one in each hand? He might even have cared for three, by sit- 
ting on the last — the legend says he was heavy. However, 
legends are legends. We must take what is handed out to us 
and ask no questions. 

From New Paltz I took the west side of the Wallkill River 
to Libertyville. The road keeps in touch with the stream on 
the one hand, while on the other the view keeps in touch with 
old Sky Top, with which all those who haunt Mohawk are so 
familiar. The air was a bit too thick to do the mountains full 
justice, and the less distinctive ridges were not so readily 
identified. 

The Libertyville neighborhood is roughly picturesque. 
The mill building as it stands dates back one hundred and two 
years, occupying a spot that was a mill site for some time be- 
fore that. This is a Du Bois neighborhood, Salomon and Louis 
being the original settlers. It seems that this is the spot to 
which came the last remnant of the Indians to sell baskets, 
but finally one of them was drowned in the Wallkill, and they 
came no more, claiming that the drowned man had "spooked" 
them. 

My map seemed to indicate a bridge across the stream here, 
and here it was my expectation to cross for Jenkinstown, but 
the crossing turned out to be a ford, and not a wagon going my 
way in sight. However, on the still water above were some 
fishermen, one of whom put me across. He proved to be an 
Illinois farmer who had come back to the old homestead, and 

113 



glad enough to be among the hills again, even if his farm had 
fallen on stony ground. At the east end of the ford stands the 
house of Lewis J. Du Bois, a captain in the regiment of Joseph 
Hasbrouck during the Revolution. I found some of the Du 
Bois golden russets very acceptable eating as I trudged up the 
long hill which carries the road out of the Wallkill valley. 

Jenkinstown deserves an artist. He could work on its pic- 
ture possibilities for some time without appreciably diminish- 
ing the supply. It is just a mill and a blacksmith shop, a store 
and the old Jenkins homestead, but they have been so long 
fitting themselves into the landscape that they all belong there. 
The place is so thoroughly Jenkinsized that there does not seem 
to be much room for any one else, though the surrounding 
country is allowed to trade at the store, I believe. 

It was a legend which brought me this way. There was a 
time when Jenkinstown held a citizen whose name was used 
to scare naughty children into prompt obedience, whose repu- 
tation was that of a strong man who had made his peace with 
the Devil, whose little low stone house was always guarded at 
night by a band of encircling ghosts, and even to-day it is 
whitewashed to that extent that it would pass for a ghost it- 
self on the proper kind of a night. Many a queer story has 
made the rounds of the neighboring firesides concerning the 
evil doings under that squat roof. Perhaps that one which tells 
how our hero visited the hut of an Indian and sent the squaw 
off on some errand, while he carefully deposited the papoose left 
behind in a pot of boiling water which was bubbling over the 
fire will explain his gentle nature as well as any. Naturally 

114 



the Indians felt offended, and are said to have kept Mr. man 
busy thereafter dodging things, but they do not seem to have 
caught him, or, if they did, it was after the legend had retired, 
and we can only imagine his latter end. It was probably hot 
enough either way, whether Indian or Devil got him. 

Tansy was a favorite herb with the Indians, and it is said 
that the sites of their bark wigwams were marked by clumps 
of its growth long after the last vestige of the cause had dis- 
appeared. Tansy is one of the most beautiful combinations of 
lemon yellow and soft green that the wayside provides, and 
the fact that it may mark the long-gone habitation of the 
original owner of the soil does not detract from its interest. 

How to get out of Jenkinstown was the next question. The 
road went a long way around, but there lay the fields, and the 
map told how the straight way for Ireland Corners was on the 
other side — not that I wanted Ireland Corners, but it was in 
the way of my going, as was also New Hurley, whose impos- 
ing church so overawes the little hamlet that it seems even 
more insignificant than the facts would warrant. 

Wallkill was down as the next stop. It looks all right on 
the map, and possibly it is, but if it is my impressions are all 
wrong. In the first place the station agent, my usual hotel 
guide, was so noncommittal as regards the choice of stopping 
places that I was compelled to put my trust in luck. Luck 
shortly turned up in the shape of a fat boy, who thought the 
Commercial House was the best, after I had passed that dis- 
mal possibility with the resolve that it would be better to try 
the Jansen. When my young friend announced that his pop 

115 



ran the Commercial doubt again held sway, but the boy was 
not only fat, he was jolly, and that finally settled the matter. 
My hope is, for the sake of the Jansen's guests, that the boy 
was biased. Then it was raw and penetratingly cold outside, 
and stuffy and unwholesome within, but an introduction to 
one of Wallkill's citizens gave me an opportunity to dodge the 
hotel and spend the evening in comfort. 

The next morning was about as unfriendly as it well could 
be, at least so it seemed at the time, but by noon the morning's 
weather seemed quite passable as compared with the present 
unpleasantness. By then a fine rain was coming down from 
the north before a wind whose cool breath was searching every 
joint of my armor. I was bound for Marlboro by way of Platte- 
kill, at which latter place is a dam of unknown origin, locally 
known as the "Indian dam". Mr. Ralph Lefevre, however, who 
taught school here when a young man, and knows the place 
well, thinks the construction is the work of the white man, 
probably of some early inhabitant, all record of whose occu- 
pancy has been lost. So far as known, the first settlement here 
was made about the close of the Revolution, before which it 
was supposed to be a wild and unbroken wilderness. 

When Mr. A. Van Dusen, whose postoffice is Gardiner, and 
habitation is Plattekill, came along with a vacant seat and 
offered to take me in out of the wet I promptly showed appre- 
ciation of the offer, and reached Newburgh, ten miles away, 
without further effort. 



ii6 



MARLBORO TO NEWBURGH. 



Wolvert Acker, Lewis Du Bois, Balm of Gilead, Underground Route, 
Colonel Ettrick, Old Fort, Snake Hill. 



Wolvert Acker, whose "Roost" has been celebrated in story 
by Washington Irving, came to this region some time before 
the Revolution, and settled in what is now the northeastern 
corner of Orange County. He was chairman of the Committee 
of Safety in 1775, and a man of prominence. His house still 
stands on a crossroad, and almost on the county line, a trifle 
more than a mile from the river's edge. A brook, which is not 
named on the map, crosses the road close by the house. This 
brook runs almost due north to Marlboro, where it becomes 
one with the Hudson at the mouth of Old Man's Creek. 

Old Man's Creek and Major Lewis Du Bois are so in- 
separably connected that to speak of one is to mention the 
other. The hill which modestly poses here as the river bank 
(we are in Marlboro) affords the creek an opportunity for some 
grand and lofty tumbling before it reaches the lower level. 
The series of beautiful falls and rapids thus formed were early 

117 



turned to account by the major, whose mill is an ancient land- 
mark. In fact he had three mills here at different levels; two 
of them are to-day in operation, the grist mill still using the 
old overshot wheel. This is a beautiful little picture spot. 
Toward the river one sees the old mill, with the wooden water- 
way and a bit of the wheel, while beyond through the branches 
of the leafless trees is to be seen the single stone arch of the 
wagon bridge, and still further unlimited space. Looking up 
stream the eye follows the plank sluice to the dam through 
whose curtain of crystal water can be seen the moss covered 
rocks of its construction. At the left a great boulder juts out, 
which affords the water a fine opportunity for display, while 
beyond all this tumble and hubbub is the hush of the mill pond 
with its fringe of autumn foliage, a sight to tempt the painter's 
brush. 

The Du Bois dwelling stands on the bluff overlooking the 
river, a half mile north of the old mill. It was the first clap- 
board house in this region, and a great curiosity in its day. 
The British, sailing up to the attack on Kingston, had a way 
of hitting, or attempting to hit, every head in sight, and so 
sent the major a present of a few round shot, but they failed 
of their purpose. In after years these cannon balls, which had 
been gathered and stored in the attic, were used by the children 
of the house to roll across the floor when in the course of play 
it became necessary to introduce a thunder storm. The imi- 
tation is said to have been a good one. 

Doctor John Deyo, great grandson of Lewis Du Bois, has 
searched the Masonic records at Poughkeepsie, the lodge be- 

ii8 



ing known as King Solomon's Temple, and finds that the meet- 
ings were held at the houses of various prominent members, 
and that during one such meeting held in the Du Bois house 
the name of Benedict Arnold was stricken from the roll of 
membership. 

Previous to the Revolution Lewis Du Bois was a colonel 
in the local militia. How he became a major in the regular 
army is told by Dr. Deyo, who is naturally proud of his family 
tree. The state of New York furnished five regiments for the 
army, when it became evident that war was at hand, and as 
there were a dozen or more aspirants for the five positions of 
command, there was naturally great rivalry and much pulling 
of wires. One after another, four of the regiments were com- 
pleted and their officers appointed, and by the time the fifth 
regiment was to be put in the field competition was at a white 
heat, so much so that the appointive powers were afraid to 
hand out the plum, lest powerful interests be antagonized at 
a time when harmony was greatly to be desired. In order to 
relieve the pressure and avoid criticism a committee, consist- 
ing of Baron Von Steuben and Gouverneur Morris, was ap- 
pointed to make the selection strictly on merit, and the prize 
fell to Lewis Du Bois. In other words the committee took to 
the woods (Bois) ! 

As we take the road for Newburgh we soon come, after 
crossing Old Man's Creek, to the ancient burying ground 
wherein is the sepulchre of Lewis Du Bois, and close beside it 
the headstone of his wife. 

119 



"Under this home doth lie 
the body of 
Major Lewis Dubois, 
Who departed this Hfe 
On Wednesday, Dec. 29th, 1802, 
Aged 74 years, 3 months & 27 days. 
And was born Septr. 14th, 1728, 
Who was also afflicted and speachless with the Palsey 
3 years, 7 months & 24 days. 
Look down upon this house as you pass by, 
As you are now so once was I ; 
The living know that they must die ; 
But all the dead forgotten lie. 
The dust returns to dust again, 
Into the regions of the dead ; 
Beyond this cold grave wherein I lie, 
I hope to reign in eternal Happiness. 
Happy are they that fears the Lord, 

And all the sons of men. 
Their souls to God their refuge make, 
Who gives them peace Divine." 

The easy way to reach Newburgh from Marlboro direc- 
tion is by way of Balmville, which takes its name from a giant 
poplar tree of the Balm of Gilead species which has been so 
long a landmark that only legend pretends to go back to its 
beginning. It stands in the old King's Highway. Horses were 
shod under its shade before the Revolution, it being a large 
tree even then. As it is not a native of these parts, there are 
those who believe that it may have been brought by the first 
settlers who planted themselves about the mouth of the Quas- 
sic Creek below, and at the Dans Kammer above. Its leaves 

120 



and bark were used for various healing decoctions.* The giant 
stands with roads radiating from it in all directions, for all the 
world as though it thought itself a second Boston. 

The breaker of images has been busy around Newburgh of 
late years, and as a result there are a number of very satis- 
factory little stories, that, having been turned out of house and 
home, are wanderers on the face of Orange County. There is 
the Gardiner house, for instance, on the way out to Orange 
Lake: Now they say that this house was built just after the 
Revolution, and the story could not be; but if the tale does 
not apply here it does somewhere else, and I shall give it a 
home anyway. Gardner was a Tory, was arrested as a spy 
at one time and would have been hanged as a spy, had not 
Washington, who seems to have thought there were mitigat- 
ing circumstances, interfered. The house stands at Bonds, 
now known as Crawfords, Mills. 

The story has it that this was one of the stations on the un- 
derground route between Canada and New York City, then in 
the hands of the British. This route was used largely to trans- 
port the wives of the English officers stationed in New York 
to that city. Army regulations did not permit the bringing of 
their wives with them, hence they were shipped to Canada and 
from thence passed along from station to station by a system 
identical with that used before the Civil War in conveying 
negroes to freedom on Canadian soil. The travelling was, of 

* There is a tradition that a riding switch, carelessly stuck in the ground, 
was the beginning, but this would make the tree only about 150 years old. 
Others give it even a less age, but it is believed probable that the tree is 
more nearly 250 years of age. 

121 



course, done at night, and the resting by day. The midnight 
rides and alarms that naturally suggest themselves could fur- 
nish forth many a tale of adventure, hard riding and narrow 
escapes on the lonely roads of this backwoods region. 

Then there is the Vale and Colonel Ettrick. Mr. Rutten- 
ber says there was no such man and that the story is impos- 
sible, but impossible or not, here it is: — 

Colonel Ettrick was a Tory and he lived in the vale, which 
extended from the mouth of Quassic Creek for a half mile or so 
up stream. The colonel conceived the idea of capturing 
Washington and handing him over to the English. He would 
invite the general to dinner, have the house surrounded by 
troops, and the job was done; but, like many another well- 
laid plan, this went astray. The colonel, so the story goes, had 
an intensely patriotic daughter, and she, learning of the scheme, 
went to Washington and disclosed it, begging her father's life 
in return. Being forewarned the visitor went armed, with a 
guard dressed in the scarlet uniform of the enemy. These ar- 
rived on the scene about ten minutes after the guest appeared, 
whereupon the colonel, supposing his opportunity had arrived, 
broke the news to the intended victim, only to have his am- 
bition rudely dashed when the redcoats took him prisoner and 
the true situation was explained. Then followed a short period 
of unrest which was most painful to Colonel Ettrick. The 
house which is pointed out as the scene of this tale, and pho- 
tographed to illustrate it, stands on the high north bank of the 
creek immediately west of the river road, but here is another 
misfortune: The De Witt map of "The Winter Cantonment 

122 



of the American Army and Its Vicinity for 1783", which is 
supposed to have every building then in existence in the terri- 
tory covered, neglects to show that there was any building at 
this point, though the old Trimble mill, just across the creek on 
its south bank is indicated. 

Mr. Ruttenber, Newburgh's historian, says that this story 
was devised by one Andrew J. Downing, a landscape gardener 
with a fancy for invention. 

Between an impossible story and a building that did not 
exist we seem to be a bit lame. Not so much so, however, but 
that we can move on to our next point of doubt. 

In the "Order of Councill for Naturalizing and sending cer- 
tain Palatines to New York", May 10, 1708, we read of the dire 
straits of these Palatines and the various ways of disposing 
of them, and finally that "We humbly propose that they be 
sent to Settle upon Hudson's River in the Province of New 
York, where they may be usefull to this Kingdom particularly 
in the production of naval Stores and as a ffrontier against the 
ffrench and their Indians". 

Her Majesty being "graciously pleased", duly unloaded the 
"necessitous" Germans on Governor Lovelace, and we soon 
hear of them as "The German Company at Quasck Creek and 
Thanskamir", with Joshua Kocherthal ministering to their 
spiritual and temporal needs. Thus came the "New Burgh". 

Dr. John Deyo has in his collection what Mr. Ruttenber 
pronounces an "undoubtedly genuine tomahawk, originally 
one of the number presented by the French government in 
Canada to chiefs of the Six Nations". It is a most businesslike 

123 



little axe, with a long rosewood handle. The edge is keen and 
bright as when new, but the head is battered in a way to in- 
dicate considerable use, and no doubt it has drunk the blood 
of the paleface more than once. The inlaid decorations, con- 
sisting of scimitar and crescent, look like the work of the 
Orient, and may mean an interesting history prior to its use 
as a gift of peace by the French, who in the sixteenth and 
seventeenth centuries made strenuous efforts to undo the work 
of Champlain when he made mortal enemies of the Iroquois. 

To pass through Newburgh and not even stop at the old 
Hasbrouck house, now the Washington's Headquarters, is a 
most barbarous and unpatriotic thing to do, but there is so 
much to say, if one attempts anything, and it has all been said 
so many times, that I hardly feel like competing with the abler 
pens that have already told its story. Rather let me save the 
souls of discredited legends. 

If, after crossing Quassic Creek, we follow Spring Street 
to where one turns east for New Windsor, there will be found, 
on the west side of the road at the bend the former home of Dr. 
Moses Higby. What else the doctor did I do not know, but he 
once mixed a dose that has made him famous for more than a 
hundred years. It was the emetic which was given to Daniel 
Taylor, the spy, of which Governor Clinton remarked that it 
was warranted to work either way. 

Now keeping to the right we soon come to the Snake Hill 
Turnpike, and here we will turn back toward Newburgh for a 
moment, for here, under the shadow of the hill, a quarter mile 
north of the crossroads, stands the "Old Fort", another of my 

124 



lame ducks. No one disputes that it is an old building, for it 
was erected about 171 7 by Gen. John Haskell, but from this 
point on we part company with the man who insists on a rea- 
son for things. The story leaves one's imagination in a pleas- 
ant state of excitement, which it seems unkind to treat with 
cold water, as some insist on doing. Well, we will get at the 
story before it is lost: About sixty years ago the clapboards 
which for many years had covered the log sides of this building 
were removed, when the west side, that toward Snake Hill, 
was found to be pierced with bullet holes and studded with 
stone arrowheads, silent evidence of Indian attack, and so 
grew around this spot a misty web of romance. Mr. Rutten- 
ber insists that there were no Indian troubles in the neighbor- 
hood of Newburgh, and that a fort was never necessary or 
seriously thought of, but what is the use of serious thought, 
anyway ? 

During the warm part of the year this region is surely Sum- 
mer's wonderland. Passing through it one comes in time to 
take the riot of beauty for granted to a certain extent. The 
fields and the woods, stone walls and rail fences twined with 
wild shrubbery, and the wildflowers, common enough to be 
sure, if any wildflower ever is common, with the many nooks 
and crannies where rocks prevent close cultivation, for them 
to disport in, making such beautiful foregrounds for distant 
mountain views or river glimpses that travelling is slow work 
indeed. Such a stretch was Spring Street, and now the road to 
Little Britain, between Snake and Temple Hills, continues the 
diversion. It is one great playground where the wind is ever 

125 



teasing the daisies or carrot or goldenrod, pushing them this 
way and that, and finally blowing their heads off that he may 
be sure of another frolic next season, when each scalp torn from 
its owner this year means dozens of children to keep going the 
sport of the trifling old fellow, who blows hot or blows cold, 
is on with the new love before he is off with the old. When the 
hot sun scorches and his caress would be welcome he is off to 
the highlands or down by the river, leaving his playmates to 
bake in the swelter. 

This same Snake Hill seems always to have had a bad repu- 
tation, for the Indians knew it as Muchhattoes, meaning a 
small, bad hill, but if it is in bad repute it still puts on a bold 
front, and adds much to the looks if not to the morals of the 
neighborhood. 



126 



WASHINGTON SQUARE TO WEST POINT. 



Palls House, Temple Hill, Vail's Gate, Knox Quarters, Moodna, Plum 
Point, Cornwall, Storm King. 



If one shuts his eyes to the enticements to loiter, and blind- 
ers would be a most excellent part of the equipment for these 
parts if one must get somewhere, he will in due time come to 
Washington Square and the Falls house where, tradition says, 
General Armstrong wrote the Newburgh letters which gave 
Washington such opportunity to show how much of a man 
he really was. But the great interest of the place centers 
around its temporary occupancy by General-Governor Clinton. 
Clinton was in command at Fort Montgomery when he was 
elected to fill the highest office in the state. He posted up to 
Kingston to take the oath of office, and then back to the fort 
without delay. 

When the fort fell he established his quarters in the Falls 
house and immediately began the task of collecting his scat- 
tered troops in the hope that he might reach Kingston ahead of 
the British and save the town, but in spite of his best efforts 

127 



he was a day late. Here occurred the trial and sentence of 
Daniel Taylor, spy, whom we have already hanged at Hurley. 
Away back in the days of the French and Indian wars the care- 
less dress of the native troops led a certain English army 
surgeon to compose the song of Yankee Doodle in derision of 
the rough clothing of the militia, and as it was then so was it 
now. The Americans wore anything they could get, and cap- 
tured British regimentals were donned when the blue and buff 
was not to be had. This was the undoing of Taylor, for seeing 
a company of men dressed in his native costume, and learning 
that they were commanded by Clinton (the English general of 
this name had just captured Fort Montgomery, and was in 
these parts), he calmly walked himself into trouble. His mes- 
sage was inclosed in a silver bullet, and when he discovered 
the mess he was in that bullet went down where the words 
come from, and even beyond. And here was where Doctor 
Higby came in and the bullet came out. Taylor was confined 
in a room on the ground floor in the north corner of the build- 
ing; the staple driven into the doorway at that time for the 
purpose of securing the prisoner is still in place. In another 
room is a curious china closet, said to have been built by one 
of the soldiers, and painted red, white and blue. It is a curi- 
osity in its way, evidently constructed by a man who was 
something of a cabinet maker and ingenious as well. 

A half mile northwest at the first crossroads stands, on the 
southwest corner, a simple frame house that was assigned to 
LaFayette during his sojourn with the army here, but this 
bare fact is all I have concerning this bare house. 

128 



This last little excursion has taken us somewhat out of our 
course, and we must retrace our steps, past the Falls house to 
the point where the road for Vails Gate branches. This will 
take us along the western slope of Temple Hill, past the old 
Samuel Brewster stone house, 1768, on the right, until we 
come opposite the monument which crowns the summit of the 
hill. Both on this slope and on that opposite, across the little 
valley of Silver Stream, the army lay encamped during the 
greater part of the years 1782-3, and in the woods across the 
brook are large heaps of stones which once formed the sides 
of the Winter huts which formed "the last cantonment of the 
American Army". According to a sketch made at the time by 
William Tarbell, private in the 7th Massachusetts Regiment, 
these huts were substantial creations, well adapted to with- 
stand the blasts of a northern Winter, being built of stone up 
to the window sills, and of logs above. Old inhabitants still 
remember when these walls were waist high. They are mere 
heaps to-day, but the length of the ruins testify to the extent of 
the encampment; those on the eastern slope have disappeared 
entirely, but on the west the woods are full of them. 

The monument which crowns the hilltop marks the site of 
the Temple. The Temple of Virtue it was to be called, but the 
orgies with which it was inaugurated made the descriptive 
part of the title so misleading that it was seldom or never used. 
The south front is adorned with a tablet which tells us that 
"On this ground was erected the 'Temple' or new public build- 
ing, 1782-83. The Birthplace of the Republic". And on the 
west front we read "Omnia Reliquit Servare Republicam. On 

129 



this site the Society of the Cincinnati was born May lo, 1783, 
at the last cantonment of the American Army; and it still 
lives to perpetuate the memories of the Revolution". Lossing 
describes the building from the lips of Major Burnet "as a 
structure of rough-hewn logs, oblong square in form, one story 
in height, a door in the middle, many windows and a broad 
roof". To quote again: "The spot is consecrated by one of 
the loftiest exhibitions of true patriotism with which our Revo- 
lutionary history abounds. There love of country, and devo- 
tion to exalted principles, achieved a wonderful triumph over 
the seductive power of self-love and individual interest, 
goaded into rebellion against higher motives by the lash of 
apparent injustice and personal suffering. It is, indeed, a hal- 
lowed spot ; and if the old stone house at Newburgh is worthy 
of the fostering regard of the state because it was the head- 
quarters of the beloved Washington, surely the site of the 
Temple, where he achieved his most glorious victory, deserves 
some monument to perpetuate the memory of its place and as- 
sociations." This was written in 1851. 

On the main road of Vails Gate, just east of the railroad 
crossing is the old Edmonston house, 1727, variously known 
as the Hospital and as St. Clair's headquarters. The old army 
map shows the hospital in an entirely different location, but 
Mr. Ruttenber states that this was a tavern and headquarters 
for the medical staff, and that probably accounts for its local 
appellation to-day. It seems that there is no evidence that St. 
Clair ever stopped in this vicinity, and just how the building 
came to be christened with his name is not explained. Eagers 

130 



says that William Edmonston occupied the house during the 
Revolution, and that while, at the request of Washington, he 
was guiding the army to the camp ground under Temple Hill 
the soldiers dug up his potatoes and shot his fat hogs, and that 
his house was used for the storage of hospital supplies. The 
statement is made that it was in this building that General 
Washington was first introduced to the Marquis de LaFayette. 

Vails Gate was formerly known as Tookers Gate for the 
same reason; tollgate kept by Tooker, then Vail. 

And now we come to the most interesting house between 
Newburgh and West Point, which, thanks be, has fallen into 
good, appreciative hands: The John Ellison house, Knox 
headquarters. The building stands south of, and with its back 
to, the present road, but this is accounted for by the early maps 
which show it on the north side of the highway, where its hos- 
pitable front door could readily be reached by the traveller. 
Thomas Ellison was the first of the name in the New Windsor 
neighborhood. An article in the Magazine of American His- 
tory states that he built both this and the house on the river 
bank at New Windsor, known as the Washington headquar- 
ters, where a council of war was held June 12, 1781, during the 
last days of the general's occupancy of the house. 

It is thought probable that what looks like a frame addition 
to the house was the original building, as a fireback therein 
bears date 1735, while the stone part of the house is dated 1752. 
Ellison's bedroom was in the left end of this frame, and under 
the floor of this room is situated his vault, where were kept 
his money and valuable papers. 

131 



During the Knox occupancy a grand ball was given to the 
officers of the army ; General Washington led the dance. Some 
of the small window panes were decorated with the names of 
certain of the belles of the ball by those young officers pos- 
sessing diamond rings. Whether it was a case of sentiment or 
a desire to show that their jewelry was true blue, they neg- 
lected to state, and this most important matter will probably 
always remain a mystery. These precious squares of glass are 
said to have been removed by the last Ellison who inhabited 
the house, taken from the only place where they mean any- 
thing. 

The garret stairs are as original as was the first steamboat ; 
they make stairs practical where ordinarily only a ladder could 
be used It is hinted that there are secret hiding places about 
the building, not all of which have been discovered. There is 
enough material in the chimney which furnishes fireplaces for 
the various rooms to build a moderate-sized house; it is full 
of cupboards, both great and small, and the walk around its 
circumference on the cellar floor is something of a journey. 

Now if we take the road on the right it will be but a brief 
space before the Moodna is crossed. There was a time when 
this was Murderers' Creek, but in the course of time N. P. 
Willis came this way and in the vastness of his wisdom saw 
fit to change the name which meant something to one which 
meant nothing, and unfortunately the change stuck. Who 
reads N. P. Willis these days, anyway? 

What Mr. Ruttenber calls a piece of harmless fiction is the 
story attached to the Samuel Brewster frame house at Moodna, 

132 



on the west side of the road and just south of the creek. The 
story is to the effect that the "Holland Loan" was stored in a 
vault here under guard, being used to pay off the soldiers. 
About January, 1782, the States of Holland loaned five millions 
of guilders to France on behalf of the United States, the stock 
being subscribed in one day by the thrifty Dutchmen, and it 
is claimed that this sum, in specie, after having been brought 
from the other side, was transported under guard across the 
country to New Windsor. Mr. Ruttenber thinks this improb- 
able, but he has a half recollection of having read somewhere 
that $250,000 was sent over from Boston to the paymaster 
here. In those days the usual route of travel was across the 
Hudson from Fishkill to New Windsor, "and it seems probable 
that it was taken to the Brewster House, as he was the sturdy 
Chairman of the Committee of Safety of New Windsor". Mr. 
Ruttenber further says that he does not know how or when 
the tradition started and only one of the several local histories 
refers to it. There was such a loan, and there was a vault in the 
Brewster house, and on these two legs the story stands. This 
house, built by Samuel Brewster in 1755, is sometimes called 
LaFayette's headquarters, though for what reason I have 
failed to discover. The Brewsters came from Long Island, and 
Samuel, who is spoken of as a college graduate, erected a rude 
forge just below the above house. By the time of the Revolu- 
tion it had become a large forge, for those days, with a water- 
wheel and triphammer. This site is now marked by a boulder 
bearing a tablet which calls attention to the fact that the forge 

133 



was used in the construction of the great chain, built to pre- 
vent the passage of hostile ships up the river. 

At the first opportunity I crossed back to the north side of 
Moodna Creek for a visit to Plum Point, on whose shores 
Captain Machin's Battery was intrenched for the purpose of 
protecting the line of obstructions which had been stretched 
from Polopel (Potladle) Island to the point. The earthworks 
are in a good state of preservation to-day, though overgrown 
with tall trees. 

Plum Point, known to the Dutch as Couwanham's Hill, is 
the site of the first white man's cabin between New York and 
Albany. Patrick MacGregorie, a former companion in arms 
of Governor Dongan, was, shortly after he came to this coun- 
try, invited by the latter to settle in New York, and ac- 
cordingly selected this site. The newcomer served in the wars 
against French and Indians, and died, leaving, as he sup- 
posed, his widow comfortably fixed. But another arose who 
knew not the MacGregorie, and all the lands on which he had 
settled and so carefully cultivated were patented to Capt. John 
Evans, and the widow was compelled to sell out at a ruinous 
price, at least so she and her friends claimed. 

Couwanham's Hill is now in the clutches of a brick con- 
cern, and will soon be a hole in the ground. 

Along about now the sun dropped behind the hills, and I 
hied me to the protecting arms of Mrs. Carroll, who keeps the 
nearest approach to a hotel that Cornwall affords. The sunset 
clouds would have made a gorgeous yellow jacket for a Chinese 
Mandarin, but there was no Chinaman at hand and no practi- 

134 



cal use to put it to, so it stayed but a little while. The yellow 
reflections and black tree silhouettes in the still waters of the 
creek by the roadside were wonderful to behold. 

Cornwall and its immediate vicinity has been the haunt of 
literary folk ever since N. P. Willis discovered the Hudson. 
At the edge of the Highlands its beauty and inspiration are 
enough to make a poet of a butcher boy. Canterbury is the 
older part of the village, though the maps usually ignore the 
name. About the only house that lays claim to the dignity of 
age is the Ring homestead, better known as the Sands place, 
because for some years David Sands, an early Friends' preacher, 
lived and preached in the house. During the Revolution it was 
occupied as a store, and at times served the purpose of a 
guard house. At the time of my visit the man who could have 
told all about it was not at home, but the woman who lives in 
the west end of the building informed me that the room she 
now uses as a kitchen was at one time occupied by Washing- 
ton. For other information than this I was forced to be con- 
tent with such scraps as the local histories afford, and little 
enough it is, for generally the place is dismissed with the 
vague statement that many historic memories cling about it. 
Possibly the literary lights prefer it so, as each can then clothe 
it with his own imagination. The house stands at the parting 
of the ways, for the Landing and for Newburgh, sharing the 
honors of the situation with the Soldiers' Monument which 
finds lodgment here. 

The way south lies along a pleasant little stream which the 
maps neglect to name, but which should be the Stour, as Can- 

135 



terbury adorns its banks. The morning light glistening on its 
waters, the glimpses of homes through the trees and the Fall 
smell of burning leaves which perfumed the crispness, made 
very pleasant first impressions — so much so that the camera 
felt called on to make permanent a bit or two of these pleasing 
sensations. I find that the camera feels much as I do about all 
this sort of thing, though it sometimes has a dreary way of 
showing it later on. 

By little and little the road mounts the foothills (we are to 
cross Storm King this morning) until finally it starts skyward 
in good earnest, and what glorious views to the north and west 
are framed in every opening through the foliage, woodland and 
hill, and the winding river. The road bends in toward the 
bowels of the earth to encompass a gully, and in doing so runs 
on a most unexpected bit of civilization. But soon we are out 
again, clinging to the face of the mountain with all the world 
at our feet ; one glance of the eye covers the valley from which 
it has taken an hour or more to climb. We can see the little 
dots that people live in down in Canterbury and Orrs Mills, 
and even to the misty ranges of old Shawangunk beyond. 
With the sun squarely on the innumerable twigs of the leaf- 
less trees which mass the foreground it seemed as though the 
morning mist was still lying on the mountain side, through 
which the brown heads of the oaks and the dark green of the 
spruces pushed much as do the tophamper of the fishing boats 
through the low fog on the Banks. 

As I stood came up from below the distant splash of falling 
water, or was it the wind in the trees? Whatever it was, the 

136 



song was part of the picture. It is a place to stand and dream 
with half-closed eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the 
cool of the Autumn wind which is gently rustling the clinging 
oak leaves. A masterpiece that probably never looks twice 
alike, so many are the changes possible to the hand of the 
Master Artist. 

Soon we are travelling along the side of Hurricane Hollow, 
whose suggestive name needs no explanatory legend, and right 
across the way from a little trifling mountain reservoir, if full 
of water (mudhole otherwise) is the Continental Spring, whose 
famed waters gave life to the soldier boys in their long and 
wearying marches over these mountain roads. 

Now there is a steady jog of a mile or more over the divide, 
when, on a sudden, the valley of the Hudson and the southland 
bursts on the view. In the foreground is West Point, spread 
out like a map, and beyond, Constitution Island. The road 
soon loses itself again in the hills and the woods, seesawing 
back and forth down the steep descent, where the short cuts 
for the man on foot give him an advantage over even the space- 
consuming automobile. 

When came a dainty little waterfall and i o'clock I thought 
of lunch, and dropping pack and camera soon found a place to 
nestle in leaves and sunshine. Overhead the wind stirred, now 
and then sifting down a leaf or two whose work was finished. 
The place was made for a noon siesta. A few ferns untouched 
by the frost livened the brown carpet of the woods, while the 
yellow straggles of the hazel blossoms turned the sun to sub- 
stantial gold. Sandwiches and apples blend well with such a 
scene. 

137 



Down where a guide board in the middle of the road gives 
one the choice of Cornwall, West Point, Highland Falls or 
Central Valley, I turned to the left as one who seeks the seat 
of war learning should, and soon came upon my little brook 
again, whose tinkle had enlivened the nooning. Here it tum- 
bles down a series of slender cascades into a reservoir, ending 
its beautiful life in doing good. 



138 



HIGHLAND FALLS TO STONY POINT. 



Fort Montgomery, West Point Chain, Mad Anthony, Washington Spring. 



It was Saturday afternoon. Yale was gridironing the 
cadets, and West Point was swamped with visitors. It was no 
time for sight seeing, so I worried down against the stream of 
football enthusiasts to look for a night's lodging. But, alas! 
There was no place for my bones, at least none that was fit, 
for Highland Falls lives on the liquor it sells to the military 
folks, and is not the pleasantest place in the world in which 
to spend a night. However, one night is but a short space to a 
good sleeper. Highland Falls has a church, but it yet reminds 
one of the remark made by the Rev. William Vesey, in 1704, 
concerning Orange County, to the effect that "there are about 
sixty families of several nations who have no minister nor are 
able to raise a salary for one". 

The three miles to Fort Montgomery is a pleasant walk 
along a country road ; the fields on the west are too rugged to 
be of much use to the farmer, but the great boulders and ledges, 
with trees growing where they can, make a most effective pic- 

139 



ture, and pass the time pleasantly until comes the village of 
Fort Montgomery. At one point we can look back on 
Sugar Loaf Mountain which, according to Lossing, "is the 
highest part of a range of lofty hills on the eastern side of the 
Hudson, upon which the Americans planted batteries and 
lighted beacon fires in the time of the old war for independ- 
ence". 

Somehow this little hamlet made me feel that it might be 
the original village of Laughing Water. The brook is a trifling 
affair, but there is a certain picturesque quaintness, combined 
with a look of backwoods crudity that appeals to the imagina- 
tion. 

The way to the old fort is devious. At the postoffice the 
road turns up hill, and in three or four minutes one comes to a 
rough lane on the left skirting a cleared field, and a few feet 
before this is reached is a blind footpath leading in from the 
road. This, diligently followed, will bring one out onto the 
breastworks which still surmount the steep river bank. With 
the year's crop of leaves on the ground this path is as easy to 
follow as the straight and narrow way. However, an easterly 
course will land one pretty close to the desired haven. 

The capture of Forts Clinton and Montgomery is a well- 
known story. The forts, with the boom and chain across the 
river, which they protected, made the passage north impossi- 
ble to a hostile army, and if Burgoyne was to be helped these 
obstructions must be swept aside. The fight can almost be 
called a family affair, for it was Clinton against Clinton : Gov. 
George and his brother Genl. James for the defendant and Sir 

140 



Henry for the plaintiff. They were all from the same Irish 
stock, and all pretty good fighters, but the defenders were so 
outnumbered that the case was hopeless. Sir Henry, after de- 
ceiving Putnam, who was in command on the other side of the 
river, by a feint against Peekskill, crossed under cover of a 
dense fog on the morning of October 6, 1777, to Stony Point, 
and by a circuitous march back of the Dunderberg he was able 
to fall on both forts at once and carry them by the sheer force 
of numbers. The following description of the event is taken 
from the Historical Collections of the State of New York, 
published in 1841. It purports to have been written at Kings- 
ton three days after the fight by one who was in Fort Mont- 
gomery at the time, and gives some interesting details : — 

"On Sunday night his Excellency, Governor Clinton, 
who then commanded at Fort Montgomery, sent out a 
party of about one hundred men under the command of 
Major Logan, across the Dunderbergh (Thunder Moun- 
tain) to watch the motion of the enemy. The party re- 
turned in the morning and reported that they had seen 
about forty boats full of men land below the Dunderbergh. 
The Governor sent out another small party of about twenty- 
eight men, under the command of Lieutenant Jackson. On 
the road that leads to Haverstraw, two or three miles be- 
low Fort Clinton, they fell in with a concealed party of the 
enemy, who ordered them to club their muskets and sur- 
render themselves prisoners. They made no answer, but 
fired upon the enemy and hastily retreated; they returned 
the fire and pursued our people half a mile ; but they all got 
back to the fort without losing a man, though within five 
rods of the enemy before they were discovered. Upon this 
intelligence, one hundred men were immediately sent off 
under Colonel Brown, who fell in with them two miles from 
the fort, about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, when a smart en- 

141 



gagement ensued; but the enemy being of much superior 
force, our people were forced to retreat. 

"At the same time it was thought proper to send some 
artillery with a field-piece to occupy an eminence that com- 
mands the road that leads to Orange Furnace, with a party 
of men to defend it ; they were attacked soon after, and our 
field-piece did great execution. The field-piece bursting, 
our men in their retreat kept up the engagement for some 
time with small arms. Most of our people got within the 
breastwork, and the attack became general on both forts. 
At the same time the enemy's shipping came in sight, but 
the wind being light, and the tide against them, none of 
their vessels came up except the galleys and armed sloops, 
which fired upon us, but did no execution; we in return 
fired upon them, and believe did them some damage. 

"The enemy continued a vigorous and incessant attack 
upon the forts; but notwithstanding their utmost efforts, 
they were many times repulsed and beaten back from our 
breastworks with great slaughter. But the smallness of 
our number (being in both forts but about five hundred), 
which required every man to be upon continual duty and 
obliged them to unremitted exertion, fatigued our people 
greatly, while the enemy, whose number was supposed to 
be at least four thousand, continued to press us with troops. 

"About 4 o'clock they sent in a flag, demanding in five 
minutes a surrender of the fort and ourselves prisoners of 
war, — or they would put us all to the sword. An answer 
was returned by Colonel Livingston, acquainting them that 
we were determined to defend the fort to the last extremity. 
The action was renewed with fresh vigor on both sides, and 
continued until the dusk of the evening, when they stormed 
our upper redoubt which commands the fort, which after a 
severe struggle and overpowering us with numbers they 
got possession of; and we were obliged to give way. At 
the same time they stormed and got possession of Fort 
Clinton, in which were none but militia, who nobly defended 
it till they, like the garrison at Fort Montgomery, were 
obliged to give way to superior force. 

142 



"The darkness of the evening much favored the escape 
of our people, the greatest part of whom, with almost all 
the officers, got off, and have since joined our army or re- 
turned to their places of residence. * * * We are told 
that the reinforcement from Peekskill, which had been twice 
urged* during the day, arrived only in time on the oppo- 
site side of the river to see the fort taken, but could give 
them no manner of assistance, and even a small reinforce- 
ment would have enabled the garrison to maintain it until 
efficient succor had arrived. Under this misfortune, we 
have the satisfaction to be assured, that all the officers of the 
garrison fought like heroes, distinguished themselves both 
by their courage and conduct, and that all the privates, as 
well militia as continental, fought with the utmost bravery, f 
The quantity of provisions in the fort was not great, but 
the ammunition and stores which fell into the enemy's 
hands were considerable." 

The outline of the earthworks along the edge of the bank 
is well defined to-day. The whole is covered with a forest of 
second growth timber which, with the leaves on the trees, 
would cut off practically all of the outside world, but as I saw 
it in November the vista down and across the river was mag- 
nificent, limited only by the weather. Opposite, towering high 
overhead, is the rugged mountain known as Anthony's Nose, 
while below spreads the river and the group known as Dunder- 
berg, whose stubborn feet have compelled the mighty stream to 
bend the knee. 

* Waterbury, the express who was sent from Fort Montgomery, pur- 
posely delayed, and the next day deserted to the enemy. 

t The late Lieutenant Timothy Mix, who died at New Haven, Conn., in 
1824, was one of the defenders of Fort Montgomery. While in the act of 
firing a piece, his right hand was carried away by a shot. Instantly seizing 
the match with his left, he touched off the cannon ; by which discharge it is 
said forty of the enemy were killed. 

143 



There was a good deal more concerning the chain or chains 
which were stretched across the river during the War for In- 
dependence than most of us know about. The following notes 
are taken from "An historical address" by Macgrane Coxe, de- 
livered at the unveiling of a tablet at Sterling Furnace : — 

The first attempt to obstruct the Hudson was made at Fort 
Washington in the Summer of 1776 by a line of chevaux-de- 
frise and sunken ships across to Fort Lee, but this failed en- 
tirely of its purpose. 

Next, in 1777, a chain was stretched from Fort Montgomery 
to Anthony's nose. To have one's nose tweaked in such 
fashion must be anything but pleasant, but there is no record 
of any objection on Anthony's part, though he is just the 
rugged sort that one would expect to hear from. This chain 
was made at or near Ticonderoga and was intended for the 
obstruction of the Sorel River, the outlet of Lake Champlain, 
but the Hudson was more important and it was brought south. 
The strong currents, however, developed many weak points, 
and the chain had to be both lengthened and strengthened. 
On the capture of Fort Montgomery this fell into the hands of 
the British, who sent it to England, and from there it was sent 
to Gibraltar, "where it was of great use in protecting the ship- 
ping at the moles". 

In the Autumn of 1776 and the Springs of 1777 and 1778 a 
chevaux-de-frise with fire ships and rafts, to be used against 
an enemy, was constructed at Polopel's Island, opposite New 
Windsor. It was for the further defense of the river and as a 

144 



protection to this obstruction that Captain Machin's battery 
was intrenched on Pluni Point. 

On April 30, 1778, the great chain was stretched from West 
Point to Constitution Island. This was five hundred yards 
long, and is said to have weighed one hundred and eighty-six 
tons. Was supported on logs, so that it floated but a few feet 
below the surface, and remained in place until the declaration 
of peace, being taken up in the Autumn of 1783. The iron for 
this was made at the Forest of Dean Mine and at Ringwood, 
then owned by Robert Erskine, and the links were forged at 
the Sterling Furnace, which is still in operation. They were 
then taken over the mountains on muleback or by ox carts, 
two or three or more links at a time, and were finally welded 
together at the several forges situated along the river near 
West Point and New Windsor, one of which was the Brewster 
forge at Moodna. 

Most, if not all, of the oversight of this work devolved on 
Capt. Thomas Machin, who was of the Boston Tea Party, was 
wounded at Bunker Hill, and on January 18, 1776, was com- 
missioned second lieutenant of artillery in Colonel Knox's 
regiment. He was employed under Governor Clinton in con- 
structing the fortifications and obstructions of the Hudson 
River in the Highlands. 

There are two ways of going south from Fort Montgomery. 
One by crossing Popolopen Creek and taking a beautiful wood- 
land road along the border of Sinnipink or Highland Lake, 
sometimes called Hessian Lake from the slaughter on its 
banks of Hessian troops during the assault on Fort Clinton. 

145 



Then around the foot of Dunderberg, through Tompkins Cove 
and so to Stony Point. The other back of Dunderberg. follow- 
ing the line of Sir Henry Clinton's advance on Fort Montgom- 
ery and of General Wayne's when he marched south to the 
storming of Stony Point, July 15, 1779. Both are historic and 
both beautiful, but, having been over the former some years 
since, I tried the longer and more "circuitous" route. This took 
me through the Hellhole, between The Torne and Bear Moun- 
tain, along Popolopen Creek, whose roar ascends to the trav- 
eller high overhead, along Queensboro Brook to Queensboro 
and Beach Bottoms, and through the latter by a cart track, and 
over the hills between Black Mountain on the west and The 
Timp on the east. It is only when one comes out on the 
southern brow of the ridge and looks down on the distant 
Hudson with the hills and vales between, that he realizes how 
high up in the world he is, the ascent has been so gradual. 

This region is too rough for much farming, though here 
and there the attempt is made. Occasionally the little home of 
a woodchopper is passed, but for the most part it is a fairly 
wild piece of country. The voice of one crying in this wilder- 
ness would disturb but few. Queensboro Brook is as circuitous 
as a series of barrel hoops. The road runs first one side and then 
another, until it seems as though there was always one more 
river to cross. All of which entertains the traveller mightily. 

Just about opposite Stony Point the road splits, the eastern 
fork, known as the Creek Town Road, offered General Wayne 
an opportunity to mass his men for the attack on Stony Point. 
There is a spring here which pours out of the roots of a stone 

146 



wall which is evidently good for man and beast, as I had to 
drive out an old white horse before my turn could come. 

Tradition says that a few days before the assault on Stony 
Point a squad of soldiers went from house to house through 
this entire region and killed every dog found so as to insure 
quiet when the time came. 

Lossing, in "The Romance of the Hudson", published in 
Harpers' Magazine in 1876, gives the following as preliminary 
to the planning for the capture of Stony Point: "The chances 
for success in a night assault upon the garrison there were 
talked over at the headquarters of Washington at West Point. 
The impetuous General Wayne — "Mad Anthony" — was then in 
command of troops in that vicinity. "Can you take the fort by 
assault?" Washington asked Wayne. "I'll storm hell, general, 
if you'll plan it !" was the reply. "Try Stony Point first", sol- 
emnly answered the chief. 

The following letter to General Washington, dated at 
Stony Point, July 17, 1779, is General Wayne's own account of 
the assault and capture : — 

"Sir — I have the honor to give you a full and particular 
relation of the reduction of this Point, by the light infantry 
under my command. 

"On the 15th instant at 12 o'clock we took up our line 
of march from Sandy Beach, distant fourteen miles from 
this place ; the roads being exceedingly bad and narrow, 
and having to pass over high mountains, through deep 
morasses, and difficult defiles, we were obliged to move in 
single files the greatest part of the way. At 8 o'clock in 
the evening the van arrived at Mr. Springsteels, within one 
mile and a half of the enemy, and formed into columns as 
fast as they came up, agreeably to the order of battle an- 

147 



nexed; namely, Colonels Febiger's and Meigs's regiments, 
with Major Hull's detachment, formed the right column; 
Colonel Butler's regiment and Major Murfey's two compa- 
nies the left. The troops remained in this position until sev- 
eral of the principal officers with myself had returned from 
reconnoitering the works. At half after ii o'clock, being 
the hour fixed on, the whole moved forward. The van of 
the right consisted of one hundred and fifty volunteers, prop- 
erly officered, who advanced with unloaded muskets and 
fixed bayonets, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel 
Fleury; these were preceded by twenty picked men, and a 
vigilant and brave officer to remove the abatis and other 
obstructions. The van of the left consisted of one hundred 
volunteers, under the command of Major Stewart, with un- 
loaded muskets and fixed bayonets, also preceded by a brave 
and determined officer with twenty men, for the same pur- 
pose as the other. 

"At 12 o'clock the assault was to begin on the right and 
left flanks of the enemy's works, whilst Major Murfey 
amused them in front; but a deep morass covering their 
whole front, and at this time overflowed by the tide, to- 
gether with other obstructions, rendered the approaches 
more difficult than was at first apprehended, so that it was 
about twenty minutes after 12 before the assault began; 
previously to which I placed myself at the head of Febiger's 
regiment, or the right column, and gave the troops the most 
pointed orders not to fire on any account, but place their 
whole dependence on the bayonet, which order was literally 
and faithfully obeyed. Neither the deep morass, the for- 
midable and double rows of abatis, nor the strong works in 
front and flank, could damp the ardor of the troops, who, 
in the face of a most tremendous and incessant fire of 
musketry, and from cannon loaded with grape-shot, forced 
their way at the point of the bayonet through every ob- 
stacle, both columns meeting in the centre of the enemy's 
works nearly at the same instant. Too much praise cannot 
be given to Lieutenant-Colonel Fleury (who struck the 
enemy's standard with his own hand), and to Major Stew- 

148 



art, who commanded the advance party, for their brave and 
prudent conduct. 

"Colonels Butler, Meigs and Febiger conducted them- 
selves with that coolness, bravery, and perseverance, that 
will ever insure success. Lieutenant-Colonel Hay was 
wounded in the thigh, bravely fighting at the head of his 
battalion. I should take up too much of your excellency's 
time, were I to particularize every individual who deserves 
it for his bravery on this occasion. I cannot, however, omit 
Major Lee, to whom I am indebted for frequent and very 
useful intelligence, which contributed much to the success 
of the enterprise ; and it is with the greatest pleasure I ac- 
knowledge to you, that I was supported in the attack by all 
the officers and soldiers under my command, to the utmost 
of my wishes. The officers and privates of the artillery ex- 
erted themselves in turning the cannon against Verplanck's 
Point, and forced the enemy to cut the cables of their ship- 
ping, and run down the river. 

"I should be wanting in gratitude were I to omit men- 
tioning Captain Fishbourn and Mr. Archer, my two aids-de- 
camp, who on every occasion showed the greatest intre- 
pidity, and supported me into the works after I received my 
wound in passing the last abatis. 

"Enclosed are the returns of the killed and wounded of 
the light infantry, as also of the enemy, together with the 
number of prisoners taken, likewise of the ordnance and 
stores found in the garrison. 

"I forgot to inform your excellency, that previously to 
my marching, I had drawn General Muhlenberg into my 
rear, who, with three hundred men of his brigade, took post 
on the opposite side of the marsh, so as to be in readiness 
either to support me, or to cover a retreat in case of acci- 
dent ; and I have no doubt of his faithfully and effectually 
executing either, had there been any occasion for him. 

"The humanity of our brave soldiery, who scorned to 
take the lives of a vanquished foe calling for mercy, reflects 
the highest honor on them, and accounts for the few of the 
enemy killed on the occasion. 

149 



"I am not satisfied with the manner in which I have 
mentioned the conduct of Lieutenants Gibbons and Knox, 
the two gentlemen who led the advance parties of twenty 
men each. Their distinguished bravery deserves the highest 
commendation. The former belongs to the Sixth Pennsyl- 
vania Regiment, and lost seventeen men killed and 
wounded in the attack; the latter belongs to the Ninth 
Pennsylvania Regiment, and was more fortunate in saving 
his men, though not less exposed. I have the honor to be, 
&c., ANTHONY WAYNE." 

A spring, known as Washington Spring, once gushed in 
large volume at the side of the highway in what is now the 
village of North Haverstraw. It was a well-known spot to 
the army of the Revolution, and well merits its name. Of late 
it has been harnessed to the water pipes of a nearby house, and 
only the overflow is allowed to disport itself as of old, but 
even this makes quite a brook. 



150 



STONY POINT TO ENGLISH CHURCH. 



Treason House, Washington Walnut, Coe House. 



About two miles below this stands the Treason House, 
made famous by the Arnold-Andre plot to give up West Point 
to the British. It was built in 1770 by a brother of the then 
occupant, Joshua Het Smith. The father was a judge and the 
sons more or less prominent lawyers in New York. They were 
not especially popular in this neighborhood, on account of a 
certain aloofness which those living nearby are said to have 
attributed to a feeling of superiority. 

Hoping that I might be able to spend the night in the 
Treason House my walk was timed with that intent, and much 
to my satisfaction found a ready welcome, and from Mr. 
Weiant, the Lord of the Manor, secured many interesting 
items. He is descended from Revolutionary stock, has long 
lived in the Treason House, and has for years collected historic 
material. The following scraps are much as I gleaned them 
during the evening : — 

151 



Capt. James Lamb, who lived in the house adjoining on the 
north, is frequently spoken of as a Tory, but was in reality a 
most ardent patriot. When the separation from the mother 
country was talked of he opposed it with all his strength, be- 
cause he did not believe the colonies were ready for war, or 
in condition to sustain a prolonged struggle, but when the die 
was cast his every effort was for his country. Being eighty 
years old at the time he, of course, could not take a hand in the 
fighting. Captain Lamb was master of the negro Pompey, who 
is credited with having piloted General Wayne in the Stony 
Point affair. 

The Washington Walnut, recently purchased for pres- 
ervation by the Daughters of the American Revolution, stands 
in a field across the road from the Treason House and a bit 
north. The usual legend concerning this is that it was used by 
Washington as a pay station for the army. It is also said that 
General Wayne first met the negro Pompey under this tree, but 
the true state of the case is that Washington and his staff, 
while reconnoitering down this way before the attack on Stony 
Point, stopped under its shade and sent up to Captain Lamb's 
for refreshments, and the captain's daughter Catharine (Mrs. 
Jacob Waldron), sent down by the negro Pompey such eat- 
ables as could be quickly gathered together. The tree is a 
magnificent feature in the landscape, and well worth preserv- 
ing for itself alone. 

The gun on Teller's Point which forced the Vulture to drop 
down out of reach, was there for signal purposes, not for use 

152 



against an enemy; hence it was only a four-pounder, quite in- 
capable of doing serious damage. 

The spot at the foot of Clove Mountain where Andre landed 
and where the first conference was held, contained even at that 
early time a small stone dock for the purpose of shipping wood 
and stone to New York. This dock has disappeared within 
the memory of the present generation. It stood just south of 
the northern entrance to the present railroad tunnel, just about 
where a stone crusher now is. 

In Revolutionary days the main north and south road was 
much further toward the east, the present highway being at that 
time merely a lane connecting the two or three houses here 
with the outside world. A bridle path, all traces of which have 
long since disappeared, led down to the landing on the tide- 
water creek known as the Minisceongo; it was over this that 
Arnold passed in going between the house and his boat. 

LaFayette's headquarters, Haverstraw, was the Benjamin 
Allison house, 1754. LaFayette was here about 1782, occupy- 
ing the house for some two weeks, having been sent down by 
Washington to superintend matters. 

In conveying their prisoners to Tappan the guards of Major 
Andre and Joshua Het Smith, the latter arrested on a charge 
of complicity in the treason plot, took horse at the King's 
Ferry, Stony Point, after having come down the river from 
West Point in boats, and kept to the highway, passing the 
Smith (Treason) house, and turning west on the road from 
Haverstraw to the Ramapo Mountains through what is now 
known as Garnerville, crossing the Minisceongo Creek in the 

153 



upper edge of that village and passing over to the present 
Ramapo Road, along the northern base of Clove Mountain. 
Thence over the slope of its western end and so, in a south- 
easterly direction to a crossroads then known as Kakiat, now 
as English Church, and on the government map as Hempstead, 
where they dined in the Coe house, still standing. 

Here they took the road toward New City, leaving it at the 
first turn to the right, and now follows a series of turnings 
which probably trace the road of other days as nearly as is 
possible at the present time. Part of this road, if not all, dates 
back to Revolutionary times, as two old stone houses of that 
period adorn its borders. 

Leaving English Church toward New City, as above stated, 
we take the first turn to the right, then first left turn, then sec- 
ond right turn, then first left turn, when the road shortly ends 
in the main highway running south from New City. This is 
an uninteresting straight line. We follow it, however, but a 
short distance, taking the first turn to the left into Germonds, 
and by a reasonably direct road through Blauvelt come to 
Tappan. I have this as the route from Mr. Weiant, and by 
laying a tracing from the old military map on the present-day 
geological survey map, which gives all the roads. The only 
book statement referring to this is that of Smith himself, who 
says: "After dinner (at the house of John Coe, Kakiat) we 
proceeded by a circuitous route to Tappan, or Orange Town, 
and arrived there about dusk." The above route is not circui- 
tous, but there are so many turnings that it might well seem 
so to a man in the agitated frame of mind that must have been 



Mr. Smith's. The main army was so near by as to preclude any 
thought of surprise, hence a circuitous route was not necessary. 
And now we will go back to the Treason House and our own 
little adventures. It was early November, the nights were 
cool, and the kind thoughtfulness of the good landlady in 
placing a ready-to-be-lighted oil stove in the bedroom was fully 
appreciated in the morning when, about 5 :3o a. m., the window 
was closed, the stove lighted and the traveller was back in bed 
awaiting a warm reception when the time for getting up 
should come, and in the meantime, with his eyes on the east, 
watching the black line of Hessian and her sister hills and the 
few rosy-edged clouds hanging above them. It was a com- 
fortable opportunity to watch the sun rise, and a beautiful sun- 
rise in an almost clear sky was the reward. The scene could 
not but remind of Omar's record of his own feelings under like 
circumstances : — 

"Wake ! For the Sun who scattered into flight 
The Stars before him from the Field of Night, 
Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes 
The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light." 

Even while looking the sun came over the hill and my 
dazzled eye turned from the now impossible scene. 

The Treason House is an interesting specimen of the bet- 
ter class of houses built a hundred and fifty years ago. A 
square building two stories in the clear, with a one-story wing 
on either hand, which were originally of stone, like the main 
structure, but for some reason the stone has been replaced with 
wood. It is situated well up on the slope, and commands an 

155 



uninterrupted view of the lowlands, river and hills beyond. 
The substantial character of the interior trim and finish is in- 
teresting. The stair balusters are turned much after the mod- 
em fashion, the work being probably done abroad. Door and 
window casings, instead of being built up of various mouldings 
and boards, as is the fashion in these times of hurry, are made 
of solid posts with panels cut out by hand. It is small wonder 
that the house is still in good condition. 

A secret closet tucked under the garret stairs is known as 
the Andre closet, and has the reputation of being the major's 
hiding place, but as no one knew of his presence in the house, 
or was looking for him, this closet stands charged with secur- 
ing reputation under false pretenses. 

The large bedroom on the second floor, southeast comer, 
is the one from which the unfortunate Andre is said to have 
seen the firing on the Vulture, and it was also in this room, 
later in the day, Septem.ber 22, 1780, that the final papers 
passed between Arnold and Andre, some of which were found 
on the latter at the time of his capture. 

The rear room on the main floor, now the dining room, is 
pointed out as that occupied by A?.ron Burr when a law 
student in the house. The marble mantel placed in the room 
when the house was built is still doing duty. Certain scratches 
on its surface, which bear a resemblance to the letters B-u-r-r, 
are thought to be the result of some idle moment of that bril- 
liant individual. They would, however, in their present un- 
certainty of outline, equally fit the namxe of one Budd, a former 

156 



frequenter of the house, and disputatious persons find here 
much matter for argument. 

Washington was here for a brief space, August 21, 1781, 
while the army was in motion for the south and Cornwallis. 
Smith says: "My house was situated on the nearest route, 
where all communications generally passed from the eastern 
and southern states across the ferry at Stony Point", and 
again, "Gen. Arnold was frequently with me, in search of those 
culinary supplies, unattainable in his mountainous recesses". 
When Arnold was given the West Point command: "At this 
period he visited my house with his family, on his way to his 
appointment. I opened my doors with hospitality for his re- 
ception, as I had done generally to the officers of the army, 
and other genteel travellers." When Smith wrote he was mak- 
ing out a case for himself and his statements are usually salted 
to taste by each partaker thereof. 

I left this historic spot well fortified with buckwheat cakes 
and other simples, intent on following in the footsteps of the 
Andre guard, outlined above. Crossing the Minisceongo 
Creek by a stone bridge, which is a picturesque addition to an 
already attractive scene, the way soon joins hands with the 
Ramapo Road, which skirts the foot of Clove Mountain just 
as closely as is consistent with a highway that is on the level. 
A little lane leading down from some one's orchard caused the 
camera to tarry a bit, while the fields of faded goldenrod, blos- 
soming anew in the glances of the sun, were a constant dis- 
traction, but in spite of all temptation I got along at a very fair 
pace. 

157 



All this was on the mountain side ; on the other the views 
used almost constantly as a background Timp Mountain and 
others of the Dunderberg ridge, along w^hose sides my road of 
yesterday found its way, and altogether this stretch was pe- 
culiarly attractive. 

At the foot of a stone crusher, which is eating great 
chunks out of the west slope of poor old Clove Mountain, 
the road passes over a gentle swell and heads for English 
Church, two miles and a half away. The road ahead looked 
straight and rather uninteresting, and when a vacant buggy 
seat came along I took advantage of my opportunities. My 
common carrier proved to be the great or greater grandson 
of the first white man born in Rockland County, a subject 
which monopolized some minutes of the way. 

The house of John Coe is a modest little affair, but being 
in the way of travel in horseback days, it slept and ate many 
distinguished guests. It was here that Andre had his dinner, 
and Washington was almost a frequent visitor. Across the 
road stands the English church, over whose door is the legend, 
"Hemstead Presbyterian Church, 1750", which gives its name 
locally to the spot. This is a split from the "Brick Church", 
where the services were all in Dutch, but as the English speak- 
ing part of the community increased it gradually came to the 
conclusion that it would prefer its religion in the home lan- 
guage, and as the Dutchmen would not compromise the new 
church was built in 1827 and the Dutchmen told to go to — 
Heaven any way they liked. 



158 



GERMONDS TO PALISADES. 



Old Road, Old Houses, Polhemus Mill, West Nyack, Blauvelt, Orange- 
burg, Tappan, Sneeden's Landing, Block House, 
Washington Spring. 



The way now wig-wags along in a southeasterly direction 
to the Nanuet-New City pike, through Germonds, keeping east 
of Bardonia and Clarksville, through the western borders of 
West Nyack, and so to Blauvelt, Orangeburg and Tappan. 

Certain inhabitants of the West Nyack region who were 
doing things to their front yard maintained that the only way 
for Tappan from these parts was by way of Nyack, and not 
having with me a road map to present them as a certificate of 
admission to the Ananias Club, I was fain to let them stew in 
their own ignorance. 

Everyone who has been much in the country soon learns 
how little the average countryman knows of the road which 
runs past his home, and seldom places much confidence in the 
most positive assertions. In fact, if the traveller is sure of his 
way and in the mood for amusement, the systematic asking of 

159 



the same question is apt to elicit a most interesting variety of 
opinion. I recall one case along the Juniata River, in Penn- 
sylvania, where three different persons in the same village 
varied in their estimates of a certain distance from one and one- 
half to five miles, the actual distance being somewhat less than 
three. But to get back to our subject, one can reach Tappan 
by way of Nyack if he wishes, but it is the long way round, 
and not ours. 

The tracing from Washington's army map placed over 
a map of the present day locates the old road exactly, except 
in the neighborhood of Germonds, but here one or two of the 
old stone houses of other days practically settle the matter. In 
fact the number of old houses strewn by the wayside along 
this stretch come to the rescue and settle any doubt, if there 
is any, as to the road the forefathers went. 

And now a word concerning these old brownstone houses: 
As I understand it, those built of blocks which have been 
squared and roughly finished belong to the English period of 
occupation, while those in which the stone was used in the 
rough represent the Dutch period. Nowadays the poor, ill- 
used structures fairly cry aloud when they see a sympathetic 
face coming down the highway. All sorts of mean imposi- 
tions have been practiced on them. Some have been picked 
out with jig-saw fantasies in a most cruel manner, some have 
had their stone fronts painted red. Think of it! A fine old 
brownstone house daubed with red paint! Is it any wonder 
they sometimes commit hari-kari by letting their roofs fall in 
and their walls fall out? In Orangeburg one has actually been 

t6o 



crowned with a slate mansard roof, and it looks as shamefaced 
as stone and mortar well can — looks like a boy who has pulled 
his father's stovepipe hat down over his ears and has been 
caught in the act while playing with his dad's Sunday head- 
gear. There is one example, however, in the southern edge of 
this same village of Orangeburg that is beautiful in its sim- 
plicity. It carries the air of being possessed by one who appre- 
ciates the fitness of things, and stands a symphony of symme- 
try on its gently swelling knoll. In one of these old houses, 
possibly the one with the foolish mansard cap, it is said that 
the beams still show marks of British bayonets; this was a 
bit of information that came too late for personal investigation. 
We have got a bit ahead of the map and must step back a 
moment to lay out the way of going so that the wayfaring man 
will not be too much puzzled by the many crossroads. The 
wiggle-waggle road from English Church drops into the north 
and south road to New City, opposite the "Great Woods". 
Following this a bit, take the first turn to the east, crossing 
the railroad track into Germonds, then the first turn south, and 
travel southeast for a mile and a half, coming up with and fol- 
lowing a little branch of the Hackensack River, and turning 
squarely south at the Polhemus house and the red grist mill 
which adorns the wayside. If I were a girl I should say that 
it was just too lovely for anything, for it is lovely. There it 
stands with its old overshot wheel, in a wooded glen, with the 
flash and sparkle of the falling water from the millpond just 
above; a picture that is worth a day's journey to see. The 
mill was erected by grandfather Aaron Polhemus, no one 

i6i 



knows when, but the old gentleman died seventy-five or more 
years ago at the age of eighty two, so it is safe to say that the 
building has been standing one hundred years or more; it 
may even have looked down on the cavalcade that conducted 
Andre to Tappan. Aaron Polhemus served during the Revo- 
lutionary War, and sent home, after one of its battles, a can- 
non ball which just missed spilling Polhemus blood. The 
present generation remembers this as in use in the mill during 
his boyhood as a weight. Grandfather's store and dwelling, 
which were once located across the street, are no more. 

There is a good deal of old house about the last few re- 
marks, but it will not do to suppose that there is nothing else 
to see, for we are in the hollow of a giant's hand. The Ramapo 
Mountains are the thumb, while the peaks of Abbey Mountain, 
Little Tor, High Tor, and of Verdrietege Hook are the tips of 
the fingers, and the long ridge back of Nyack, and so to the 
Palisades forms the little finger, laid up a bit to emphasize the 
bowl, and the Hackensack River, with its many tributaries, 
are the blue veins running down the wrist. There are mead- 
ow lands and marsh lands, highlands and lowlands, and little 
brooks by the roadside all bent on doing their utmost for the 
benefit of the traveller, just aching for a word of admiration. 

On the corner where crosses the main road for Nyack 
stands the "Hunter's Home". Its bar is much like the bar 
of other wayside taverns, except that stuffed rabbits are hang- 
ing by their hind legs, and as natural as dead rabbits can be, 
while various sorts of birds are mounting the rocky slopes that 
gleam behind glass cases. But it is not of the tavern, nor the 

162 



bar, nor even of the works of taxidermic art, but of the pro- 
prietor that we would speak, for here is one who knows the 
roads of Rockland County as the man of letters knows the 
alphabet. For years he drove a butcher cart throughout this 
rural district and now, in his days of prosperity, he hunts the 
festive rabbit and the wily fox — a good man to know of if one 
is puzzled as to his going. 

After crossing the east and west highway which leads on 
to Nyack we take the first turn to the left and then wiggle 
down to where both wagon and railroad cross the Hackensack, 
and so on for some two miles and a half, through Blauvelt, 
where, by the way, stands a house facing the railroad station 
with a front entrance more after the manner of the mansions 
of old than is usual hereabouts. The present tenant neither 
knows who built the house nor when, but, as the newspapers 
put it, we learn from other sources that this was the hive of the 
Dederers, from which the last of the name swarmed long ago. 

Just beyond the Dominican Convent, where the guideboard 
points To the Fair Ground, we leave the direct road and, 
crossing the two railroads that cross each other here, we are 
in Orangeburg and on the road connecting Nyack with Tap- 
pan which, if we turn to the south, shortly lands us in the latter 
village. 

Tappan appears to be an English rendering of a Dutch cor- 
ruption of an Indian word, Tuphanne, meaning cold stream, 
and was, I presume, applied to the creek now known as the 
Sparkill. 

In April, 1640, Captain David Pietersen de Vries (David, 

163 



son of Pieter of Vries) bought this region from the Tappan 
Indians and called it Vriesendael, but some years later the 
savages burned him out, and he, disgusted, returned to Hol- 
land. 

Then about 1686 some sixteen farmers secured a patent to 
the land from Governor Dongan, knov/n as the Tappan or 
Orangetown patent, and for nearly a hundred years it was 
known locally as Navassunk or Good Land. Tappantown was 
its first name, and is still the name of its postoffice. This 
was the county seat until the courthouse burned in 1774, when 
a change was made to New City. 

Tappan's chiefest claim to immortality is the Andre trial 
and execution. When he and Joshua Het Smith were brought 
here, in all probability over the road we have just been follow- 
ing, Andre was imprisoned — September 28 to October 2, 1780 
— in the house of Casparus Mabie, erected about 1753. The 
building was then knov/n as Mabie's Tavern, and has been a 
public house almost continuously since. Andre's cell was in a 
sort of lean-to in the rear, from whose window, it is said, he 
saw the erection of the scaffold that was to end his career. He 
had petitioned Washington to be shot, as a more honorable 
mode of death, and is said to have been shocked when he ar- 
rived at the scene of execution to discover the scaffold. This 
seems to put our little legend out of joint, but it is hardly fair 
to push tradition too hard. 

Smith was confined in the Dutch Church, and it was in this 
church that the trial court sat. The present church merely 

164 



locates the spot, the historic building having been demolished 
to make way for a larger pile of bricks. 

The old parsonage, handy by, is still a possibility if only a 
giant would come along and pinch off the excrescences that 
have been allowed to grow on and encumber its old stones. 
Built about 1729, it has housed all the dominies from the good 
Muzelius down. 

The army was camped on the ridge in the western edge of 
the village, and here was the place of execution, a heavy gran- 
ite block marking the site. The history of this monument is 
somewhat interesting. My memory goes back to a picture in 
Harpers' Monthly of a pole surrounded by a heap of stones, 
but about 1878 the Rev. Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, dean of 
Westminster, was visiting Cyrus W. Field at the latter's home 
in Tarrytown. The subject of Andre's execution was brought 
up, when Mr. Field remarked that he would erect a monu- 
ment on the spot if the dean would write the inscription, and 
the dean wrote: — 

"Here died, October 2, 1780, Major John Andre of the 
British Army, who, entering the American lines on a secret 
mission to Benedict Arnold for the surrender of West Point, 
was taken prisoner, tried and condemned as a spy. His 
death, though according to the stern code of war, moved 
even his enemies to pity, and both armies mourned the fate 
of one so young and so brave. In 1821 his remains were 
removed to Westminster Abbey. 

"A hundred years after the execution this stone was 
placed above the spot where he lay by a citizen of the 
United States, against which he fought, not to perpetuate 
the record of strife, but in token of those better feelings 
which have since united two nations, one in race, in lan- 

165 



guage and in religion, in the hope that the friendly under- 
standing will never be broken. 

"ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY, 

"Dean of Westminster. 

" *He was more unfortunate than criminal.' 

''GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

" 'Sunt lachrymae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt.' 

" — ^neid, Book I., line 462." 

On two occasions cranks have attempted to dynamite the 
monument, and since Mr. Field's death it has been neglected 
and sold repeatedly for taxes, but now has come into the pos- 
session of the American Scenic and Historic Preservation So- 
ciety, and its troubles are at an end. 

There is one more old house in the village, the Washington 
headquarters, then known as the De Wint house, built in 1700 
by John Stratemaker. It is a simple, one story and attic build- 
ing, of little pretense, at least such was the old house; but 
one story and attic is not commodious enough for present day 
needs, and a large frame wart has grown on one end which is 
mercifully hidden by the trees if one can only view it aright. 
Here Washington spent the time during the Andre trial, and 
it was in the southeast room, the then parlor, that he signed 
the order for the court martial, and a few days later the death 
warrant. It is said that the pegs in the closet are the original 
ones on which the Great Chief hung his hat and cloak. 

We are getting along toward the end of our trip. Only one 
more stop, at Sneeden's Landing, the western end of Dobbs 
Ferry, now known as the village of Palisades, some two miles 
west and a little south of Tappan — a very pleasant walk. 

166 



Palisades is unusual in more ways than one, for it supports 
a public library, a most unusual proceeding for so diminutive 
a settlement, and some of its good citizens have worked up the 
local history to make it easy for strangers. 

As we enter the village, which is as rambling as has been 
my progress, the first house to be noted is that now occupied 
by the library, the "Big House", supposed to have been erected 
by Capt. John Corbet before 1734, but why be original when 
there is a tablet to copy that tells us all about it? 

"1685-1899. 

"George Lockhart, M. D., who patented the surround- 
ing lands from the British Government February 20, 1685, 
probably erected the first dwelling on this site. The founda- 
tions of the eastern end of the present building are doubt- 
less of that period. The house was destroyed by fire early 
in the i8th century and rebuilt by Capt. John Corbett, 
whose only child May married Henry Ludlow, clerk of the 
town of Orangetown (in 1744). 

"Philip Verplanck's map of the George Lockhart Patent, 
dated June 9, 1745 (now owned by the Palisades Library) 
designates this edifice as 'Henry Ludlow's House'. It has 
been known as the 'Big House' for generations. The west 
wing (now the reading room) was built about 1826, but 
otherwise the existing stone walls formed the home of Jona- 
than Lawrence during the Revolutionary war. 

"According to tradition Washington and LaFayette (and 
some have said the Baron Von Steuben) once dined here. 
History states that General Washington and Count de Roch- 
ambeau crossed the Hudson from Dobbs Ferry to recon- 
noiter the British position from the Palisades on July 18, 
1 781. On their return they may have enjoyed the hospi- 
tality of the loyal home then in this building. 

"Between the months of July and December, 1898, the 
house was entirely renovated by Mrs. Henry E. Lawrence, 

167 



as the home of the Palisades Library, to v/hich purpose it 
was dedicated on the evening of April 27, 1899." 

A table, said to have been used when Washington dined 
here, now stands in the hall of the library. 

Just east of the library where is a bold-lettered sign, "No 
Trespassing", if one trespasses will be found a cart track that 
shortly worries out into a footpath across the fields and into 
the woods, where a grove of young white birches carries it on 
to a stone wall. This, steadfastly follov/ed, leads to the ruins 
of 1776, the Block House, built, with a redoubt on a lower level, 
after the battle of White Plains, when it was feared the Brit- 
ish would raid this region. 

On the next shelf below is a grass-grown mound — all that 
is left of the redoubt. Neither of these saw much actual war- 
fare. Occasionally some passing vessel would throw a shot or 
two ashore by way of a little gun practice, but nothing more 
serious occurred. 

On the map of 1745 the only house that shows on the river 
is Snedings, the "fferry" house, still standing. The view from 
the redoubt looks down on this and on all the world here- 
abouts. This was the first place, from the south, where a road 
could easily reach the water's edge. The ferry was established 
about 1698, and at least as early as 1759 was owned by the 
Snedens or Sneethens. Later the name is spelled Snyden, and 
once Snyder. The first owner mentioned was Mrs. Mollie 
Snethen, who is said to have lived to be loi years old, and 
whose tombstone still stands in the Palisades burial ground. 
Mrs. Mollie was her own ferryman, and if the legends are to 

168 



Cornwall 135 

Council of Safety 84 

Court House, Kingston 83 

Couwanliam'8 H ill 1 34 

Coxsackie Creek 14 

Coxsackio geology 24 

Coxsackie, meaning of name 15 

Coxsackie, old landing in 16 

D 

Davis, iTanitje, house, Marbletown 107 

(le Castellux, Marquis 12 

Dederer home. Blauvelt 163 

Demarest, meaning of Ill 

De Ronde, Rev. Lambuitus 66 

Devil's Cave, Saugerties 73 

deVries, David Pietersen, Captain 163 

De Waal Inn, Kingston 86 

De Wint house, Tappan 166 

De Witt, meaning of Ill 

Deyo, meaning of Ill 

Deyo, Abraham, house, New Paltz 110 

Dobbs Ferry on the west side of the Hud- 
son 169 

Du Bois, meaning of Ill 

Du Bois house. New Paltz 110 

Du Bois, Lewis, Major 117 

Dn Bois, Lewis J., Captain .114 

Du Bois, Salomon, house 60 

Dutch Church, Kingston 90 

Dutch Church, Tappan 164 

Dutch Church parsonage, Tappan 165 

Dutch dominie. The, a lawgiver 67 

E 

Edmonston house, Vail's Gate 130 

Kllison, John, house, Vail's Gate 131 

Elraendoif house, Hurley 99, 103 

Elraendorf Inn, Kingston 84, 89 

English Church 154, 158 

Epkes and Bantas are cousins Ill 

Esopus 77 

Esopus war. First 78 

Esopuswar, Second 79 

Esperanza 31 

Ettrick, Colonel 122 

F 

Falls house, Washington Square 127 

"ff" as in flferry, etc 62 

Fiero place 60 



First settler's cabin between Albany and 

New York 134 

Fort Montgomery 140 

Fort Montgomery village 140 

Four Mile Point 30 

Fox Hall, Kingston 76 

G 

Gardiner house, Newburgh 121 

Gasherle, Joseph, house, Kingston 87 

Gates, Horatio, Gen 1 

Geology of the Coxsackie region 24 

Ghost, modern 42 

Ghost stories 20, 103, 106 

Glacial depo-sits 17 

Golden Hill, Kingston 92 

Grave stones, early 35 

"Guard House", Hurley 99 

H 

Hallenbeck genealogy 28, 31 

Hallenbeck house of 1774, Cox.sackie 28 

Hannakrois Creek 11 

Hans Vosen Kill 34 

Hasbrouc.k , the name Ill 

Ilasbrouck, Abrahiim, house, New Paltz.. 110 

Hasbrouck house, Newburgh 124 

Hasbrouck, Jean, house, New Paltz 109 

Haskell, John, General 125 

Hiawath.a, song of 5 

H igby, Jloses, Dr 124 

Highland Falls 139 

Hotfman house, Kingston 87 

"Holland Loan" 133 

Houghtaling house. Hurley 96 

Hurley 81, 93 

I 

Ice, first shipped 17 

"Indian Dam", Plattekill 116 

Indian or Catskill footpath 19, 24, 55 

Indian tomahawk 123 

J 

Jansen, Meaning of Ill 

Jeukinstown 114 

Jorisens and Brinkerhoffs are cousins Ill 

K 

Kakiat 154 

Katsbaan 66 



172 



INDEX. 



Abbey, The 7 

Abeel, David, house 60 

Academy Building, Kingston 87 

Acker, Wolvert, house 117 

Albany, Early settlement of 3 

Andre Execution Monument 165 

Andre Prison, Tappan 164 

Andre, route of his guard from "West 

Point to Tappan 153, 154, 161,163 

Arnold and Andre, first meeting place 153 

Asbury 62 

Astor, John Jacob 68 

Atharhacton 76 

Athens 31 

Atkarlcarton 77 

Austins Glen, Catskill 56 



Balm of Glleadtree 120 

Balmville 120 

Bancker, Abraham B., Kingston 86 

Bantas and Epkes are cousins Ill 

Bead, Phoenician 38 

Beck, William, Captain 31 

Bevier House, New Paltz 110 

Bible, Oldest in existence 13 

"Big House", Palisades 167 

Block House, Palisades 168 

Blom, Hermanns 79 

Blue Laws 67 

Bogardus Inn, Kingston 84 

Bonrepose, Dominie 112 

Bradt, Albert Andriessen 4 

Brewster, Samuel 133 

Brewster, Samuel, forge 133 

Brewster, Samuel, frame house 132 



Brewster, Samnel, stone house 129 

Brick clay deposits, Coxsackie 17 

Brink, Cornelius Lambertsen 74 

Brink, mention 71 

Brlnkerhoflfs and Jorisens are conains Ill 

Bronck genealogy 16 

Bronck, Jonas 15 

Bronck, Leonard 16 

Bronck, Leonard, house, Coxsackie 26 

Bronck Patent 15 

Bronck, Pieter, grist miU, Coxsackie 14, 15 

Bronck, Pieter, stone house, Coxsackie 18 

Bronx, how named 15 

Buried treasure, story of 6 

Burr, Aaron 55, 69,93, 156 



Canterbury 135 

Castle Island 6 

Cat and Kauter 59 

Catskill or Indian footpath 19, 24, 55 

Catskill Mountains, how named 48 

Catskill notes 51 

Catskill village 35, 50 

Cedar Hill 8 

Chains across the Hudson 144 

Chambers, Thomas 76 

"Clieese Mines of Hurley" 100 

Cherry Hill, Albany 2 

Churn, bewitched. Hurley 99 

Clinton, Geo., elected governor 84 

Coatsklll Mountains 48 

Coe, John, house, English Church 158 

Coey mans 9 

Cole, Thomas 49 

Continental Spring on Storm King 137 



171 



be believed, something of a sport, for we are told that with one 
discharge of her gun she once killed one hundred pigeons. 
Possibly the birds interfered with the progress of the boat and 
the lady was just clearing a path; possibly she wanted a 
pigeon pie. 

The Sneedens were suspected of Tory leanings, and pro- 
hibited by the local authorities from carrying on the ferry 
during the Revolution, and at this time it became known as 
"Dobbs Ferry on the west side of the Hudson". During the 
Autumn of 1775 Martha Washington crossed here to join the 
general at Cambridge, Mass., and the ferry was used to some 
extent by the Americans throughout the war, but there is no 
record of British troops ever having crossed at this point. 

And now we have come to the end of our trip. The "fferry" 
is still running, and in the same primitive fashion as of yore — 
a skiff propelled by oar or sail, according as wind and weather 
permit. We can cross and take the train south, or walk back 
to the Tappan station, and so home as best suits us. If we do 
walk back we must pass the Washington Spring on the right, 
just before the road from the river winds over the top of the 
bluff. It is Washington's spring on general principles, I guess, 
though it is possible that the chief did slake his thirst here some 
time; and beyond, a step, is the Riker S. Mann house, which 
is said to be 126 years of age, but still looks hearty. 



169 



Kenwood 3 

Kldd, Captain 5 

Kingston 75 

Kingston burned 85 

Kingston, date of settlement 76 

King's Road. ..7, 12. 14, 18, 55, 61, 62, 75, 120 

Kirsted, Chrlstoplier, Dr., Saugerties 72 

Knox headquarters, Vail's Gate 131 

Kocherthal, Joshua, West Camp 65 

Koeymans, Barent Pieterse 9 

Korst-Veloren 31 

L 

LaFayette's quarters, Haverstraw 153 

LaFayette's quarters, Washington Square 128 

Lamb, James, Captain 152 

Last cantonment ol American Army 129 

Lead mine. Legend of 29 

Ledges, Limestone 62, 68 

Leeds 35 

Leeds bridge 57 

LibertyvUle 113 

Limbriclt, Henry O., reminiscences 51 

Limestreet 34 

Loonenberg 32 

M 

Mabie, Casparns 164 

MacGregorie, Patrick 134 

Machin's, Captain, Battery, Plum Point. .134 

Machin, Thomas, Captain 145 

Mann, Riker S., house, Palisades 169 

Marbletown 107 

Marlboro 117 

Memorial House, New Paltz 109 

Miniaceongo Creek 153, 157 

Moodua Creek 132 

Mount Hope, Albany 3 

Muchhattoes 126 

Muddah Kill, Saugerties 73 

Murderers' Creek, Athens 31 

Murderers' Creek, Vail's Gate 132 

Mynderse, Myndert, Saugerties 72 

N 

Names, Study of Ill 

Navassunk 1 64 

New Baltimore 12 

Newkirk house, Hurley 105 

New Paltz 109 

Nicolhouse, Cedar Hill 8 



Nieuw Dorp 82, 96 

Night John 68 

Norman's Kill 3 



OldCatskiU 35 

"Old Fort", near Newburgh 124 

Old JIan's Creek, Marlboro 117 

Oliver, Andrew, Marbletown 107 

Oothoudt, Henry, CatskiU 56 

Orangeburg, old houses 161 

Orangetown patent 164 

Owen, Robert, Coxsackie 17 



Palatines at Newburgh 123 

Palatines at West Camp 64 

Palenville Road 60 

Palisades 167 

PaJisa«les Library 167 

Pawling house. Hurley 102 

Persen, Cornelius, Katsbaan 68 

Phoenician bead 38 

Planck house, Leeds, Legend of 58 

Plattekill 116 

PlattekiU Creek 74 

Plum Point 134 

Polhemus mUl, West Nyack 161 

Polopel Island 134 

Post house, Saugerties 72 

Post Road 7, 12, 14, 18, 52, 62 

Provincial Congress in Kingston 83 



Ramapo Road 167 

Rampant, solid citizen 112 

Renbaan 56 

Ring homestead, Cornwall 135 

Route of Andre guard from West Point to 
Tappan 153, 154, 161, 163 



Salisbury, Francis, stone house, Leeds — 37 

Salisbury legends 40 

Salisbury, Sylvester 36 

Sands, David, Cornwall 135 

Saugerties 71 

Schoonmaker, Egbert., Saugerties 72 

Schuneman, Dominie Johannes 44 

Schuyler, Philip, General 1 

Senate House, Hurley 97, 103 

Senate House, Kingston 83, 84, 86 



173 



Sickles Creek,' Coxsackie 14 

Sliver Stream, Vail' s Gate 129 

Skilllput ferry, Kingston 94 

Sleglit, Henry J., Kingston 88 

Sloat, John 114 

Smit, Dirck, Ensign, Kingston 79 

Smith, Joshua Het 151 

Smith, Joshua Het, has his say 157 

Snake Hill, Newburgh 126 

Snedens to Snyder 168 

Sneeden's Landing 166 

Snethen, Mrs. MoUie 168 

Sopus 77 

Sopus Country in Winter 102 

Spook Hollow, Hurley 105 

Spook stories 20, 103, 106 

Spoor, Johannes 27 

Spoorenburg 27 

Stage route, Earliest 12 

State Constitution adopted 83 

Stone Kidge 108 

Stone track for wagons 69 

Stony Point 148 

Storm King 136 

Sugar Loaf Mountain 140 

S waenenbergh 77 

T 

Tack, Johannes, house. Stone Ridge 108 

Tansy 115 

Tappan 163 

Tappantown 164 

Tappan, John, house, Kingston 88 

Tappan patent 1 64 

Tawasentha, Vale of 4 

Tawassagunshee 4 

Taylor, Daniel, spy, capture and trial of... 128 

Taylor, Daniel, spy, grave of. Hurley 104 

Taylor, Daniel, spy, hanged in Hurley 99 

Tellers Point, Gun on 152 

Temple, The 129 

Temi)leHiU 129 

Ten Eyck, meaning of Ill 

Ten Eyck, J. P., house. Hurley 103 

Terwilliger mill, sangerties 71 

Treason House, Stony Point 151, 155 

Trumpbour's Corners 62 

Tryon, Ben 30 

U 

Underground stations, Canada to New 
York 121 



V 

Vail's Gate 131 

Van Bergen genealogy 18, 19 

Van Bergen homestead, Coxsackie 18 

Vandenberg ancestry 23 

Vaudenberg, John R 16 

Van Dolson, Reverend, house, Coeymans.. 10 

Van Loon, Albertus, house, Athens 33 

Van Rensselaer's Island 6 

Van Riper, derivation of Ill 

Van Schaack place, Coxsackie 28 

Van Sickle's Tavern, Hurley 98 

Van Slyck— Tunis Willemse 13 

Van Slyke genealogy 13 

Van Steenberg house, Kingston 89 

Van Vechten house and mill, Catskill 53 

Vaughiin's, General John, opinion of King- 

stonians 84 

VosenKill 34 

w 

Wallkill 115 

Washington at Treason House 157 

Washington in Hurley 99 

Washington in Kingston 88 

Washington's Headquarters, Newburgh.. 124 

Washington Headquarters, Tappan 166 

Washington in Stone Ridge 108 

Washington Introduced to LaFayette 131 

Washington Spring, Palisades 169 

Washington Spring, Stony Point 150 

Washington Square 127 

Washington Walnut, Stony Point 152 

Water Works, old time, Coxsackie 26 

Wayne's, General, report on capture of 

Stony Point 147 

Webber place 60 

Wells, William, Coxsackie 16 

West Camp 64 

West Point 139 

West Point chain 144 

Wicks, Ebenezer, New Baltimore 12 

Wiltwyck 77 

Wynkoop, Cornelius E., Major, Stone 

Ridge 108 

Wynkoop, Dlrck, Judge, Kingston 88 

Y 

Yankees, Dutch view of 51 

Yereance, derivation of 112 



174 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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